BIX 


ilifornia 
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ility 


ARMI$TEAD  C.  GORDON 


THE  GIFT  OF 

MAY  TREAT  MORRISON 

IN  MEMORY  OF 

ALEXANDER  F  MORRISON 


ROBIN  AROON 


ROBIN  AROON 

A  Comedy  of  Manners 


By 

ARMISTEAD   C.  GORDON 
i  • 

Author  of  "The  Gift  of  the  Morning  Star"  and  "The 
Ivory  Gate" 


New  York  and  Washington 

THE  NEALE  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

1908 


Copyright,  1908,  by 
The  Neale  Publishing  Company 


CM 
cc 

«c 

TO 

W.  GORDON  McCABE 

2 

IN  FRIENDSHIP  AND  ADMIRATION. 

5 

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132241 


CONTENTS 

THE  FIRST  PART 

THE  RIVER  WAY 
Chapter  Page 

I     Nancy  Carter's  Eyebrows,   ....  13 

II     Saint  Elizabeth 30 

III  The  Cap  of  Youth 42 

IV  David's  Love-Song 56 

V     On  the  Dragon  Swamp  Road  .  .  70 

VI      Richard  the  Third  at  the  Middle 

Plantation 85 

VII     Of  Dancing-Girls 97 

THE  SECOND  PART 

LOVE'S  ENCHANTMENT 

I     An  Offer  of  Marriage 109 

II      "Con  Expressione" 122 

III  Pounds  Sterling  for  a  Pair  ....  142 

IV  Naming  the  Song 154 

V     The  Assembly  Ball 171 

VI     Life's  Sunny  Morning 181 

VII     "These,  With  Haste" 196 

VIII     Another  Man's  Shoes 204 

IX     Accolade   .  212 


This  story  is  founded  upon  a  brief  sketch, 
by  the  same  writer,  printed  many  years  ago 
in  a  weekly  literary  periodical.  For  some  of 
the  incidents  here  narrated  he  is  indebted  to 
certain  old  letters,  private  journals,  and  other 
material  of  the  period  described. 


THE  FIRST  PART 
THE  RIVER  WAY 


THE  FIRST  CHAPTER 

NANCY  CARTER'S  EYEBROWS 

Summer  came  up  the  River  Way  from 
where  the  Gulf  Stream  sweeps  past  the  Capes 
that  stand  like  sentinels  to  guard  the  Chesa 
peake  Bay;  and  the  swallows,  who  are  sum 
mer's  heralds,  came  before  her.  The  sun 
light  glittered  and  shimmered  on  the  waters 
of  Rappahannock,  and  on  the  white  sails  of 
ships;  while  over  the  great  red  brick  house, 
and  over  the  green  expanse  of  lawn  and  gar 
den,  and  over  the  broad  tobacco-fields  of  a 
yet  darker  and  richer  verdure,  lay  like  a  bene 
diction  the  calm  of  a  golden  day. 

Should  you  care  to  make  search  for  the 
place  on  any  of  the  numerous  maps  in  the 
State  Library  at  Richmond  which  picture 
Virginia  localities  in  the  shadow-half  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  you  will  find  it  marked 
upon  at  least  two  of  them  as  "Churchill." 
But  its  well-known  name  throughout  the 
Colony  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1774  was 
Bushy  Park;  and  its  owner  by  devise  in  life- 


i4  ROBIN  AROON 

tenancy,  with  remainder  in  fee  to  her  eldest 
son,  was  the  soft-haired,  sweet-voiced,  fair- 
faced  widow  of  the  late  William  Henning, 
gentleman,  then  for  some  years  past  asleep, 
and  hence  of  indifferent  mood  to  the  world, 
under  a  marble  tomb,  with  appropriate  me 
morial  carvings  and  an  eulogistic  inscription, 
amid  fine  company,  in  the  graveyard  of 
the  Middle  Church, — sometime  called  the 
Mother  Church, — in  the  tidewater  County 
of  Middlesex. 

It  was  an  imposing,  roomy  house,  with  the 
redness  of  it  offset  by  Its  lofty  white-columned 
portico,  that  reached  to  the  full  height  of  its 
two  tall  stories,  and  with  its  staring  dormer 
windows  in  the  roof,  and  its  upreaching 
chimneys  at  either  gabled  end,  where  a  multi 
tude  of  swallows  spent  the  recurrent  sum 
mers,  to  the  impotent  wrath  of  the  negro 
house-servants.  The  mansion  fronted  a 
breadth  of  green-turfed  yard;  and  beyond 
the  yard  lay  a  still  broader  stretch  of  the 
River  Way,  whose  waters  on  this  sunshiny 
morning,  late  in  May,  were  dazzling  to  the 
eyes  of  any  beholder. 

On  both  sides  of  the  house  and  at  its  rear 
stretched  the  fertile  tobacco  fields  that  had 


ROBIN  AROON  15 

made  their  owners  rich  through  the  genera 
tions;  and  there  were  outbuildings — offices, 
kitchens,  house-servants'  quarters,  stables — 
of  an  amplitude  and  dignity  commensurate 
with  the  establishment  of  one  of  the  wealth 
iest  and  most  important  families  in  the  Prov 
ince. 

Nearly  a  mile  away  to  the  southeast  and 
farther  down  the  River  Way,  the  cabins  of 
the  negro  slaves,  facing  each  other  in  rows 
of  long  green  streets,  and' the  more  imposing 
dwelling-house  of  the  overseer,  shone  white 
on  a  field  of  verdant  beauty  in  the  limpid  and 
translucent  atmosphere. 

The  river  is  four  and  a  half  miles  wide 
between  the  Middlesex  side,  where  the  lawn 
at  Bushy  Park  stops  sheer  on  the  bank  some 
forty  feet  above  its  surface  at  flood-tide,  and 
where  the  apparently  low-lying  woods  fringe 
the  Lancaster  shores  beyond;  and  looking 
seaward  from  the  mansion's  pillared  porches 
one  sees  the  ultimate  line  of  the  horizon  fade 
and  disappear  in  far  waters  that  are  very  near 
to  their  meeting  with  the  waters  of  the  Bay. 

Breakfast  was  just  over  in  the  dining- 
room  at  Bushy  Park,  a  high-ceiled,  wains 
coted  room,  bright  with  its  hangings  of  crim- 


1 6  ROBIN  AROON 

son  hangings,  its  carved  mantel-piece  and 
hearth-slab  of  white  Italian  marble,  and  im 
posing  with  its  silver-knobbed  mahogany 
doors  and  wainscoting,  its  heavy  inlaid  side 
board  with  the  crested  family  silver  of  five 
generations  of  Hennings  in  the  Colony,  and 
its  family  portraits  in  oils  on  the  walls, 
that  in  the  course  of  time  had  been 
crowded  out  of  the  first  and  second  parlors 
and  the  long  hall  into  this  less  formal  though 
equally  dignified  part  of  the  mansion,  where 
they  now  hung  cheek  by  jowl  with  pictures 
of  English  hunting-scenes  and  prints  of  fa 
mous  race-horses. 

The  gathered  company  of  visitors,  young 
and  old,  at  Bushy  Park,  who  came  and  went 
as  they  chose  by  virtue  of  their  kinship  or 
their  friendship,  or  their  neighborship,  neither 
asking  nor  being  asked,  had  arisen  from  the 
long  table,  and  overflowed  into  the  hall,  the 
parlors,  the  porticos  and  the  lawn,  leaving 
in  the  room  three  members  of  the  household. 

Robert  Henning,  eldest  son  of  the  widow, 
and  heir  apparent  of  the  surrounding  acres, 
twenty-one  years  of  age  and  a  graduate,  with 
distinguished  honors,  of  one  year's  standing 
in  the  even  then  venerable  college  at  Wil- 


ROBIN  AROON  17 

liamsburg,  leaned  lazily  back,  with  knees 
crossed,  in  his  arm  chair  at  the  head  of  the 
table;  and  with  a  quizzical  glance  at  his 
brother  David,  five  years  his  junior,  contin 
ued  a  conversation  which  he  had  just  begun 
with  his  mother  on  the  subject  of  the  Carter 
children,  who  had  departed  from  Bushy  Park 
on  the  day  before. 

"It  must  have  been  a  great  relief  to  the 
Councillor  and  Mistress  Carter  to  be  able  to 
keep  them  away  from  home  for  the  three 
weeks  they  spent  here,"  he  said,  uncrossing 
his  stockinged  legs  and  stretching  them  out 
before  him.  As  he  spoke  he  fixed  his  regard 
on  David,  who  looked  up  with  a  scowl  of 
disapproval  from  the  newspaper  he  had 
spread  out  before  him  on  the  table. 

"Middlesex  jail  is  yawning  for  that 
youngster,"  he  continued  with  mock  severity. 
"If  he  ever  comes  back  to  this  county  I  shall 
warrant  him  convicted  of  all  the  high  crimes 
and  misdemeanors  committed  by  him  during 
his  scandalous  visit  to  Bushy  Park." 

"What  did  he  do  that  he  has  so  mightily 
offended  your  majesty?"  growled  David, 
with  his  eyes  now  fast  fixed  on  his  Virginia 


1 8  ROBIN  AROON 

Gazette.  "You  pestered  his  very  vitals  when 
ever  he  was  in  the  house,  with  your  eternal 
hauling  and  mauling  of  him  for  his  love  of 
cock-fights  and  horse-races  and  fish-feasts. 
Can't  you  be  satisfied  to  have  him  gone?  As 
Greig  says,  'he's  flitted,'  and  there's  an  end 
o't.  What's  the  evil  of  Jack,  anyway,  I  pray 
your  worshipful  lordship?" 

"Oh,  I  doubt  if  it  be  in  my  power  to  en 
lighten  your  uncultivated  mind,"  his  brother 
answered,  smiling.  "Your  own  tastes  and 
Jack's  being  of  a  like  kind,  it  would  be  diffi 
cult  to  cause  you  to  perceive  the  enormity  of 
his  indulgence  in  them.  Besides,  I  doubt  that 
the  obscure  and  slow  moving  years  of  child 
hood  be  sufficiently  progressed  with  you  to 
endow  your  undeveloped  intelligence  with  an 
adequate  comprehension  of  the  villainy  of 
many  things  that  is  perfectly  perceptible  to 
the  eyes  of  grown-up  folk." 

The  boy's  face  flamed  with  a  momentary 
anger. 

"Robert!"  said  Mrs.  Henning,  warningly, 
from  her  seat  at  the  end  of  the  table  near  the 
marble  mantel.  There  was  a  gleam  of  mirth 
in  her  eyes,  and  an  almost  imperceptible 
movement  of  the  corners  of  her  sweet  mouth. 


ROBIN  AROON  19 

which  her  older  son  did  not  miss  as  he  looked 
at  her. 

Robert  laughed;  and  David  said,  "Never 
care,  mother.  I  don't  mind  him.  I  shall  live 
to  return  good  for  his  evil." 

Mrs.  Henning  smiled,  as  in  pleasure  that 
the  fraternal  warfare  of  words  was  ended; 
and  taking  up  from  the  table  the  black  leath 
er  key-basket,  filled  with  great  brass  keys 
of  varied  shapes  and  sizes,  at  her  elbow,  was 
about  to  rise  from  her  seat. 

"Don't  go  yet,  mother,"  said  Robert  Hen 
ning. 

"Listen,  mother,"  interrupted  David. 
"The  Gazette  is  becoming  a  veritable  scan 
dal-monger.  Here's  a  dainty  item  to  please 
the  palates  of  all  this  host  of  lovers  and  gos 
sips  now  abounding  at  Bushy  Park.  I  shall 
read  it  to  the  company  after  the  dance  to 
night"  ;  and  shifting  his  position  in  order  to 
get  a  better  light  on  the  paper  from  the  high, 
lace-curtained  window  at  his  back,  he  read: 

'Yesterday  was  married  in  Henrico  Mr. 
William  Carter,  third  son  of  Mr.  John  Car 
ter,  to  Mrs.  Sarah  Elson,  relict  of  Mr.  Ger- 
ritt  Elson,  deceased,  aged  eighty-five,  a 


20  ROBIN  AROON 

sprightly  old  tit  worth  three  thousand  pounds 
fortune.'  " 

Mrs.  JHtenning's  face  took  on  a  shocked 
expression,  and  Robert  chuckled  audibly. 

"I  shouldn't  wonder,"  commented  David, 
"if  he  be  of  Jack's  breed  of  Carters.  It 
sounds  like  that  lofty  pedigree.  They  have 
a  tooth  for  beauty  and  fortune;  though  they 
do  not  all  like  their  beauty  so  mellow  as  this 
would  seem.  Jack  illustrates  the  general 
family  inclination.  My  sister  Elenor  will 
swear  to't." 

"David !"  exclaimed  again  the  warning 
voice  of  Mrs.  Henning,  whose  face  showed 
a  struggle  between  her  sense  of  dignity  and 
her  desire  to  laugh. 

"Yes,  mother,  I  shall  be  good,"  said  the 
boy,  returning  with  a  grin  to  his  paper,  and 
his  mother  continued: 

"I  think  it  highly  improper  in  the  Gazette 
to  print  such  stories.  'Tis  an  invasion  of  per 
sonal  privacy,  and  teaches  the  youth  of  the 
Province  an  evil  lesson.  Soon  no  one  will  be 
safe  from  the  journals.  They  should  con 
fine  their  columns  to  the  public  news  and  to 
politics." 

"Indeed,  madam,"  chimed  in  Robert,  still 


ROBIN  AROON  21 

beaming,  "such  conduct  of  the  press  may  well 
cause  us  to  commend  the  saying  of  Sir  Wil 
liam  Berkeley  to  the  Board  at  London,  when 
he  was  Governor  here,  that  he  was  grateful 
to  God  that  in  his  day  there  were  no  printing- 
presses  in  the  Colony.  Read  us  another  like 
it,  Davy." 

"And  free-schools,"  added  David,  with 
emphasis,  "he  said  'printing-presses  and  free- 
schools.'  He  might  have  added  'and  Scotch 
tutors.'  I  heard  Mr.  Lee  say  that  they  were 
getting  to  be  thicker  than  fleas  on  a  dog's 
back  in  the  gentlemen's  families." 

"Doubtless,"  replied  his  brother,  "an  ab 
sence  of  printing,  schools,  and  tutors  would 
prove  greatly  to  your  liking.  In  spite  of  Sir 
William  Berkeley,  all  three  are  here  now; 
and  much  to  your  advantage,  if  you  will  but 
improve  it." 

"Don't  lecture,"  said  David;  and  Robert 
Henning  took  up  again  the  subject  of  the 
young  Carters. 

"There  wasn't  a  cock-fight  or  a  horse-race 
or  a  fish-feast  in  Middlesex  during  his  stay, 
that  Master  John  Carter  missed.  His  genius 
seems  to  be  toward  low  bets." 

"You  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  at 


22  ROBIN  AROON 

most  of  them,  I  believe,"  interjected  David 
sardonically. 

"And  Nancy,"  continued  Robert,  impervi 
ous  to  David's  scorn,  "give  me  Miss  Nancy 
Carter,  fifteen  years  of  age,  for  a  witch.  She 
is  vastly  pretty,  and  knows  it,  with  her 
smooth  white  skin  and  her  exceeding  black 
hair,  and  her  black,  full-arched  eyebrows — 

At  the  word  David's  grin  developed  sud 
denly  into  a  discordant  shout  of  delight,  with 
the  deep-voiced  basso  of  which  Mrs.  Hen- 
ning's  soprano  laughter,  that  she  seemed 
unable  to  control,  chimed  in. 

Robert  Henning  looked  from  one  to  the 
other  in  surprise. 

"What  on  earth—" 

"It  is  Nancy's  eyebrows,  Robin,"  explained 
Mrs.  Henning. 

"The  reason  she  had  her  head  tied  up  in 
that  veil  yesterday  morning,  on  her  going  off 
with  her  papa,  and  why  she  ran  away  from 
you,  when  you  wanted  to  kiss  her  'good 
bye,'  "  said  David  in  further  explanation  to 
Robert. 

The  explanations  were  neither  intelligible 
nor  satisfactory  to  the  latter.  He  saw  only 
a  touch  of  triumph  in  David's  reminder  of 


ROBIN  AROON  13 

his  unsuccessful  attempt  to  embrace  Nancy 
Carter. 

"Excuse  me,  mother,"  he  said  stiffly  to 
Mrs.  Henning;  and  turning  to  David,  de 
manded  angrily  to  know  what  he  was  talking 
about. 

"The  foolish  chit  of  a  girl  cut  off  her  eye 
brows  the  night  before  she  left,"  said  Mrs. 
Henning.  "Do  you  not  remember  com 
menting  on  her  absence  from  breakfast  yes 
terday  morning?" 

"She  denied  positively  that  she  cut  them 
herself,"  added  David  quickly,  "and  swore 
to  the  end  that  some  mischievous  person  in 
the  house  had  done  it  when  she  was  sleeping. 
But  I  know  her  as  I  know  my  reading-book. 
She  herself  clipped  'em,  and  none  other  did 
it!" 

"Why,  nothing  of  the  like,"  said  Robert, 
with  a  light  dawning  on  him.  "Mother, 
cannot  you  see  that  David  is  the  culprit? 
Fie !  for  shame,  Master  David,  to  steal  upon 
a  helpless,  unconscious  young  girl,  and  wreak 
such  a  vengeance  for  a  discarded  affection!" 

David  looked  crestfallen  and  sullen;  and 
Mrs.  Henning  said: 

"I  am  disposed  to  agree  with  David,  and 


24  ROBIN  AROON 

to  think  that  it  was  an  experiment  she  was 
making  on  herself,  to  see  how  she  could  vary 
the  looks  of  her  face.  It  made  me  laugh 
when  I  saw  it  first  to  think  how  early  and 
how  truly  she  had  begun  copying  the  ab 
surdities  of  young  women." 

"David,  hasten  forthwith!  take  pen,  ink, 
and  paper,  not  forgetting  the  sand-box  for 
the  sake  of  the  blots,  and  sigh  like  a  furnace 
with  a  woful  ballad  made  to  Miss  Nancy's 
eyebrows,"  jeered  Robert. 

"It  is  greatly  to  be  desired  that  her 
mamma  will  give  her  a  violent  spanking 
when  she  gets  home  to  Westmoreland  for 
that  pretty  trick,"  commented  David,  who 
had  assiduously  wooed  Nancy  Carter  during 
her  stay  at  Bushy  Park,  only  to  receive  the 
mitten  at  her  small  white  hands  on  the  last 
day  preceding  her  departure. 

"Fie,  again,  David!"  said  his  brother,  "to 
speak  thus  lightly  of  your  lost  lady-love. 
Shall  her  mother  spank  so  grown-up  a  young 
woman?  Blush,  David,  to  think  of  it!" 

The  boy  growled  something  inaudible,  and 
returned  to  the  perusal  of  his  paper. 

"Speakin'  o'  books,  Maister  Davy,"  con 
tinued  Robert,  with  an  evident  effort  at  imi- 


ROBIN  AROON  25 

tating  the  tone  and  accent  of  some  individual 
known  to  the  company,  as  he  arose  from  his 
chair  and  approached  the  fire-place  that  was 
garnished  with  the  green  and  feathery  foliage 
of  asparagus-plants,  "I  have  just  come  into 
possession  of  one  of  Jack  Carter's." 

He  picked  up  a  volume  from  the  marble 
mantel-piece,  and  began  to  turn  its  pages. 

"The  Fables  of  Aesop,"  he  said;  "listen, 
mother." 

"Mother,"  interrupted  David,  still  smart 
ing  from  his  brother's  intimation  that  he  had 
clipped  Nancy  Carter's  eyebrows,  "is  it  be 
coming  in  Bob  to  make  sport  of  Greig  by 
mimicking  and  mocking  his  Scotch  dialect? 
Greig  is  a  gentleman,  and  a  guest  of  this 
house,  though  he  be  but  a  tutor.  But  I  think 
I  see  through  it;  Mr.  Robert  would  belittle 
Greig  because  he  is  jealous  of  Betty  Berke 
ley." 

"Listen,  mother,"  repeated  her  elder  son, 
without  deigning  to  notice  his  brother's  jere 
miad.  "Aesop's  Fables,  edited,  revised,  and 
corrected  by  John  Carter,  esquire.  I  caught 
master  Jack  at  this  composition  a  few  hours 
before  he  made  his  much  lamented  flitting. 
It  seems  to  have  been  a  day  of  activity  with 


26  ROBIN  AROON 

the  younger  members  of  the  House  of  Carter, 
what  with  David's  abstraction  of  Nancy's 
eyebrows,  and  Jack's  venture  into  literature. 
Johnnie  had  ink  on  his  wrist-laces  and  in  the 
corners  of  his  mouth,  and  upon  the  tips  of  his 
fingers.  There  was  ink  on  his  nose,  and  on 
his  coat;  and  he  looked  as  if  he  needed  the 
sand-box  shaken  over  him.  The  quill  was  a 
vision  of  beauty;  and  Jack  might  have  been 
painted  by  Sir  Peter  Lely  in  the  character  of 
Erato,  the  muse  of  love-ditties." 

David's  ill-humor  vanished  in  his  eager 
ness  for  the  forthcoming  revelation.  He  sat 
with  open  mouth,  and  a  fixed  gaze  of  pleased 
expectancy,  while  his  brother  narrated  the 
story  of  John  Carter's  Aesop. 

"I  suppose  it  was  written  for  the  benefit 
of  your  daughter,  Elenor  Henning,  madam," 
he  continued,  addressing  Mrs.  Henning  with 
mock  dignity;  "to  be  perused  by  her  when 
her  adorer,  the  scribe,  should  be  departed." 

David's  interest  perceptibly  increased.  He 
hitched  his  chair  closer  to  the  table,  and  his 
mouth  opened  wider. 

"I  did  not  fail,"  proceeded  Robert  Hen 
ning,  "to  observe  him  hanging  with  a  youth 
ful  lover's  insistency  at  Nelly's  brief  coat- 


ROBIN  AROON  27 

tails,  whenever  he  happened  with  her  in  the 
house.  Within  the  pages  of  this  com 
pendium  of  wisdom  I  find  confirmation  of 
his  desire  to  become  your  son-in-law,  madam. 
On  its  title-page  he  has  scrawled  at  the  bot 
tom  of  the  leaf  his  own  name  at  full  and 
sprawling  length,  and  in  as  elegant  a  hand 
as  he  is  master  of,  with  a  dash  below.  This 
he  follows  up  with  the  names  of  half  the 
young  women  of  quality  in  the  Rappahan- 
nock  Valley,  appending  his  agreeable  com 
ments  to  each." 

"How  did  you  get  that  book?"  questioned 
David. 

"I  bought  it,  Mr.  Henning,"  said  Robert; 
"Carter's  manuscript  emendations,  annota 
tions,  et  cetera,  from  the  shameless  and  ink- 
splashed  wretch  himself  for  a  mere  matter  of 
three  paltry  pistareens." 

David  settled  himself  further  back  in  his 
chair,  with  his  gaze  still  fixed  on  his  broth 
er's  face. 

"Now  listen,  mother,"  said  Robert  again; 
and  he  turned  the  pages  and  read: 

"  'Miss  Jenny  Washington  of  Bushfield  is 
very  pretty.' 


28  ROBIN  AROON 

"  'Miss  Steerman  is  a  beautiful  young 
lady.' 

"  'Miss  Polly  Tolliver.' 

"  'Miss  Aphia  Fantleroy.' 

"  'Miss  Kitty  Tayloe,  Mount  Airy.' 

"  'Miss  Lydia  Pettit  has  damned  ugly 
freckles  in  her  face,  otherwise  she  is  hand 
some  and  tolerable.' 

"  'Miss  Letitia  Turberville  is  a  sweet  girl'; 
and  so  forth,  to  the  end.  There  are  one,  two, 
three,  four,  five,  six — ohl  I  suppose  some 
fifteen  or  twenty  girls  enrolled  on  Jack's  love 
roster.  Last  and  most  impudent,  he  con 
cludes  his  effrontery — this  brazen-faced  inti 
mate  of  yours,  Master  David  Henning — with 
this  amorous  inscription  on  the  last  leaf 
in  the  hope  that  it  might  catch  the  guileless 
eye  of  your  young  sister  Nelly :  'The  name  of 
the  girl  I  love  above  all  others  is  Elenor  Hen 
ning,  the  Lovely,  of  Bushy  Park.' ' 

David  chuckled  gleefully.  His  ill-humor 
was  all  gone. 

"As  a  matter  of  course,"  he  said.  "That's 
the  reason  he  sold  you  the  book  for  three  pis- 
tareens.  'Tis  a  love-letter  to  Nelly,  and  you 
are  Jack's  innocent  post-boy." 

He  snatched  the  volume  from  his  brother's 


ROBIN  AROON  29 

hand,  and  hurried  out  of  the  room  in  search 
of  his  sister,  leaving  the  Virginia  Gazette, 
with  its  unfinished  column  of  the  gossip  of 
the  Province,  open  upon  the  table. 

"I  wanted  you  to  hear  it,"  Robert  Henning 
said  to  his  mother,  who  sat  laughing  softly. 
"It  seemed  vastly  amusing  to  me.  The  young 
reprobate !" 

"John  is  a  mischievous  youth,"  said  the 
kindly  lady  as  she  arose  from  her  seat  be 
hind  the  silver  tea-urn,  flanked  with  its  fila- 
greed  sugar-dish  and  cream-pot,  through  the 
interstices  of  which  the  blue  glass  lining 
showed  darkly;  "but  I  think  him  an  honest, 
brave  lad;  and  Nancy  is  both  pretty  and 
clever.  Integrity  and  courage  cover  a  multi 
tude  of  faults,  even  in  boys,  Robin;  and  for 
the  sake  of  beauty  and  wit  and  character,  we 
may  pardon  what  may  seem  silly  in  as  dear  a 
child  as  Nancy  Carter." 

"You  are  always  generous,  mother,"  her 
son  answered.  "John  Carter  is  a  fine 
youngster;  and,  though  it  amuses  me  to  tease 
David  about  his  friend,  I  am  truly  sorry  the 
little  Carters  are  gone  home.  As  for  Nancy, 
she  is  an  adorable  minx." 


THE  SECOND  CHAPTER 

SAINT  ELIZABETH 

Mrs.  Henning  rang  a  small  silver  bell,  and 
a  tall,  gray-haired  negro  of  dignified  mien 
and  leisurely  movement,  followed  by  two 
younger  negro  waiters,  entered  the  room,  and 
proceeded  with  their  trained  assistance  to 
gather  upon  a  large  wooden  tray  the  old 
India  blue  china  plates  and  dishes  from  the 
table.  Mrs.  Henning,  with  the  leather  key- 
basket  in  her  hand,  started  to  move  toward 
the  door  that  led  into  the  passage-way. 

"Wait  another  moment,  mother,"  said 
Robert.  "I  have  something  to  say  to  you 
that  I  did  not  care  for  even  David  to  hear 
just  now." 

She  resumed  her  seat,  with  an  expression  of 
quiet  expectancy  in  her  faded  eyes.  When 
the  servants  had  withdrawn  with  their  bur 
den  of  breakfast  things  to  the  kitchen  in  the 
yard,  Robert  said: 

"I  have  been  thinking  for  some  time  past, 
mother,  that  the  existence  which  I  am  leading 


ROBIN  AROON  31 

here  is  an  ignoble  one  for  me.  I  have  had 
all  the  advantages  that  birth,  and  rearing, 
and  education  can  give  in  this  country.  I  am 
not  an  Oxford  man,  only  because  I  prefer 
to  be  a  Virginian.  These  are  stirring  times 
in  the  Colonies,  and  they  are  big  with  coming 
events." 

Mrs.  Henning  was  listening  attentively, 
almost  anxiously.  Her  face  wore  a  look  of 
apprehension. 

"If  I  am  to  be  anything  more  than  a  Vir 
ginia  country  gentleman  I  must  go  out  into 
the  world,  and  become  acquainted  with  the 
men  who  are  to  be  foremost  in  the  great 
drama  for  which  the  stage  is  being  made 
ready." 

"A  Virginia  country  gentleman?"  his 
mother  expostulated  mildly.  "Can  there  be 
anything  finer  in  the  world,  my  dear?  Your 
father  and  his  father  and  grandfather  were 
Virginia  country  gentlemen.  And  if  that  is 
not  enough,  though  I  think  it  is,  you  may 
easily  be  of  the  Council,  or  in  some  office 
under  his  excellency,  the  Governor.  Many 
of  the  Hennings  have  been  members  of  Coun 
cil  or  Burgesses." 

Robert  smiled  a  significant  smile. 


32  ROBIN  AROON 

"If  I  read  the  signs  of  the  times  aright, 
mother,  there  will  be  no  more  of  them  in  of 
fice  in  Virginia  under  a  Royal  Governor." 

Mrs.  Henning's  face  grew  more  troubled, 
and  she  made  no  reply. 

"I  heard  some  things  during  the  sessions 
of  the  Burgesses,"  her  son  continued,  "when 
I  was  in  Williamsburg  in  March  two  years 
ago,  that  stirred  my  blood  to  protest  against 
this  sluggish  life  here  on  the  plantation — 
things  that  made  me  feel  how  paltry  are  the 
rings  of  beaux  who  chat  on  a  Sunday  before 
and  after  sermon  at  Christ  Church,  and  as 
semble  in  crowds  after  service  to  dine  with 
the  girls  at  the  neighborhood  gentlemen's 
houses,  or  to  make  their  foolish  bargains.  I 
listened  to  Dabney  Carr  move  his  resolutions 
in  the  House  of  Burgesses  for  the  Commit 
tees  on  Correspondence;  and  I  heard  Rich 
ard  Henry  Lee  speak  for  the  resolutions  with 
a  fervor  of  language  that  will  never  fade 
from  my  memory." 

The  young  man's  enthusiasm  kindled  a 
flush  in  his  mother's  pale  cheeks.  She  looked 
at  him  with  misty  eyes  of  love. 

"You  might  yourself  be  chosen  a  Burgess 
for  Middlesex,  Robert,  if  you  cared  for  it. 


ROBIN  AROON  33 

The  gentlemen  of  the  county  would  be  glad 
to  send  you,  I  am  sure." 

"This  house  is  so  full  of  company  all  the 
time,"  he  went  on,  as  though  oblivious  of 
her  speech,  "that  I  can  find  but  little  leisure 
for  business,  and  none  for  the  study  of 
politics.  I  must  go  out  and  meet  the  men  of 
affairs." 

"I  have  thought  you  always  quite  willing 
to  forego  your  books  for  the  sake  of  the  girls, 
my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Henning  gently,  with  a 
wistful  smile. 

"It  is  indeed  a  pleasure  to  have  our  friends 
here,"  he  answered.  "But  I  must  not  make 
my  life  all  pleasure;  and  I  cannot  achieve  a 
career  by  raising  tobacco  and  entertaining 
visitors." 

He  held  up  his  left  hand,  and  began  to 
count  on  his  fingers  with  his  right. 

"Let's  see,  mother.  I  don't  mean  to  seem 
inhospitable,  and  I  am  sure  I  am  not." 

"One  could  not  be  so,  and  be  a  Henning  of 
Bushy  Park,"  she  murmured  indulgently. 

"But  what  chance  is  there  for  work,  with 
this  everlasting  coming  and  going?"  he  con 
tinued.  "Last  Sunday,  six  girls  and  four 
3 


34  ROBIN  AROON 

beaux,  together  with  Mr.  Conway  and  his 
wife,  and  Mr.  Ben  Waller,  came  here  from 
church;  and  seven  of  them  stayed  the  night. 
Three  of  the  girls  and  two  of  the  young  men 
are  here  now.  There's  'Silla  Conway  and 
Agnes  Garlington  and  Betty  Fitz  Hugh,  and 
George  Lee,  and  Ned  Eustace.  Before  sup- 
pertime  there'll  be  a  dozen  more  of  men  and 
girls.  Monday,  Mr.  Downman  and  Mr. 
Harrison,  and  the  three  Harrison  children. 
Wednesday — I  can't  recall  them  all,  with  a 
score  more  in  the  house,  in  one  vast  proces 
sion  coming  and  going.  The  Carters — " 

"My  dear,"  interrupted  his  mother,  empha 
sizing  the  "dear,"  "I  suppose  it  has  been  so 
since  the  house  was  built.  It  has  certainly  been 
the  case  since  I  first  knew  it;  and,  in  the  old 
days,  I  am  told  it  overflowed  with  hospitality. 
Your  aunt  Ellis  used  to  say  to  me  very  often 
in  her  lifetime,  'Ah,  sister  Henning,  you 
should  have  known  Bushy  Park  in  the  heydey 
of  its  glory,  when  there  were  always  seven 
silver  salvers  on  the  table  and  fifty  pairs  of 
linen  sheets  upon  the  privet  hedge !'  And 
with  it  all,  your  father,  and  your  grandfather 
were  both  quite  important  men  in  the  Col- 


ROBIN  AROON  35 

ony;  yet  neither,  with  more  right  to  import 
ance  than  you." 

"I  have  much  sympathy  with  my  dear 
aunt's  pride  in  the  old  place,"  he  answered, 
gently  ignoring  her  allusion  to  the  continued 
power  of  the  Hennings;  "and  I  have  greatly 
enjoyed  this  year  of  my  stay  here.  Visiting 
my  neighbors,  planting  my  tobacco,  and 
helping  you  entertain  your  unending  stream 
of  guests  have  all  possessed  their  charm.  But 
the  impulse  to  action  grows  strong  in  me. 
The  very  atmosphere  is  prophetic  of  coming 
change;  and  I  am  not  the  only  one  who  has 
a  vision  of  war  on  the  horizon.  A  Henning 
of  Bushy  Park  must  not  prove  a  laggard  at 
the  red  sunrise." 

Mrs.  Henning  looked  worried.  Imbued 
with  the  conservatism  that  is  always  an  ac 
companiment  of  established  wealth  and 
power,  she  had  no  sympathy  with  the  spirit 
of  revolt  then  rising  in  the  Colony.  The  ful- 
minations  of  the  political  pamphleteers  made 
no  impression  upon  her  loyalty.  She  had 
been  reared  with  a  proper  respect  for  the 
King  and  a  proper  affection  for  the  Church, 
and  a  proper  estimate  of  her  own  social  im 
portance,  which  no  rude  clamor  concerning 


36  ROBIN  AROON 

taxation  without  representation  could  disturb. 
Moreover,  she  entertained  no  respect  for  the 
kind  of  politics  that  interfered  with  the  ac 
customed  tea  on  the  breakfast  table  at  Bushy 
Park. 

"I  do  not  profess  to  understand  the  public 
questions  of  the  day,  Robin,"  she  said;  "but 
I  should  regret  to  see  you  involved  in  any  po 
litical  heresy." 

The  young  man  laughed  quietly. 

"I  am  in  no  danger  of  being  tried  for 
treason  yet,  mother.  But  I  have  well  deter 
mined  to  quit  Bushy  Park  for  a  season,  and 
to  travel  in  the  southern  colonies.  There 
are  men  outside  of  this  Province  with  whom 
I  should  acquaint  myself,  if  I  am  to  be  cos 
mopolite." 

"There  are  many  Virginians  and  their 
children  in  the  Carolinas,"  said  Mrs.  Hen- 
ning.  "In  the  Edenton  and  Halifax  sections 
the  names  are  those  of  our  people  of  the 
river  valleys.  You  will  visit  Edenton  and 
Halifax  Borough?" 

The  anxiety  in  her  face  was  still  manifest; 
and  he  could  see  that  she  was  seeking  to 
charm  away  her  own  uneasiness. 


ROBIN  AROON  37 

"Yes,  and  Charleston  and  Savannah,  and 
other  places  to  the  southward,"  he  replied. 

If  Mrs.  Henning's  knowledge  of  the  po 
litical  conditions  of  the  period  was  inade 
quate,  her  shrewdness  and  common  sense 
were  nevertheless  unusual;  and  her  acquaint 
ance  with  her  son's  character  and  disposition 
was  intuitively  profound.  A  light  had  flashed 
on  her  suddenly  out  of  the  darkness,  and  dis 
pelled  her  gloom.  She  beamed  with  affec 
tion. 

"After  all  is  said,  my  dear,  is  it  not  true 
that  something  else  than  your  ambition  is 
taking  you  away  from  home?  You  need 
have  no  secrets  that  you  may  not  share  with 
your  old  mother." 

He  drew  the  chair,  in  which  he  had  seated 
himself,  nearer  to  her  own;  and,  reaching 
over,  took  her  frail  blue-veined  hand  in  his. 

"Mother,"  he  said,  with  a  tender  intona 
tion,  "you  are  a  veritable  sorceress — a  dealer 
in  dark  magic.  There  is  no  need  of  trying 
to  hide  anything  from  you.  I  do  not  doubt 
that  you  have  already  divined  it;  but  I  shall 
make  a  clean  breast  of  what  you  call  my  'se 
cret.'  " 


432241 


38  ROBIN  AROON 

She  smiled  at  him  with  eyes  that  were  ca 
ressing  and  wistful. 

"Haven't  you  noticed,  mother,  the  atti 
tude  of  Greig  toward  our  Saint  Elizabeth?" 

"I  know  it,"  she  murmured,  as  to  herself. 
She  withdrew  her  hand  from  his,  and  clasped 
her  jeweled  fingers  together. 

" — That  he  has  been  in  love  with  her,"  he 
persisted,  "from  the  moment  that  he  saw  her 
on  that  day  when  he  opened  his  school  in  the 
East  Office?" 

Mrs.  Henning's  eyes  were  downcast.  She 
fingered  her  rings  nervously. 

"The  fact  that  she  is  Colonel  Berkeley's 
heiress,"  he  went  on,  "and  that  Bushy  Park 
and  Barn  Oaks  march  together,  as  Greig 
would  say,  is  not  enough  to  make  her  care 
for  me,  mother,  save  in  a  gentle  spirit  of  obe 
dience;  while  I — well,  I  respect  and  admire 
Betty.  But  Bushy  Park  and  Barn  Oaks 
under  one  fence  could  never  suffice  to  stir  in 
me  the  genuinely  tender  passion — such,  for 
example,  as  I  might  learn  in  a  week's  associa 
tion  with  my  charming  cousin  Milicent  in 
Williamsburg." 

"It  was  your  father's  cherished  wish,  Rob- 


ROBIN  AROON  39 

ert,"  said  Mrs.  Henning  protestingly,  but 
with  perceptible  resignation. 

"Yes,  I  know,  mother,  and  I  am  more  than 
regretful  for  that  reason  that  love  has  never 
smiled  on  the  project.  Sentiment  is  the  main 
spring  of  life  with  us  gentlefolk;  and  it 
moved  my  father  in  no  small  measure  to  this 
thought  of  his.  But  the  girl  is  in  love  with 
the  Scotchman,  and  there's  an  end  o't.  I  in 
tend  to  tell  her  this  night  that  I  have  guessed 
her  heart's  secret  and  that  I  am  going  away 
to  give  Greig  his  chance.  He  is  only  a  tutor 
now,  but  he  has  got  the  stuff  in  him  for  the 
making  of  a  man.  In  the  troublous  times 
that  lie  ahead  of  us  I  look  to  see  him  come 
to  the  front.  Do  not  doubt  that  he  will.  Let 
him  adore  Betty  and  be  happy.  He  is 
worthy  of  her." 

Mrs.  Henning  was  fain  to  grieve  over  this 
swift  and  sudden  overthrowing  of  her  dream- 
castle,  in  which  her  fancies  had  dwelt  since 
her  oldest  son's  childhood;  but  she  knew 
the  mettle  of  his  pasture  and  honored  his 
generous  spirit.  She  laid  her  left  hand,  with 
its  jeweled  rings  surmounting  the  thin  gold 
double  circlet  of  her  marriage,  upon  the  sin 
ewy  brown  fingers  that  clasped  her  own. 


40  ROBIN  AROON 

"You  mind  me  of  the  line  of  the  Cavalier 
poet  of  the  old  country,  my  son,"  she  mur 
mured.  "I  think  of  you  in  what  you  have 
just  said  as  Sir  Richard  Lovelace  sang  to  Lu- 
casta : 

"  'I  could  not  love  thee,  dear,  so  much, 
Loved  I  not  honour  more.' 

"I  have  half  suspected  Betty's  attachment 
for  Mr.  Greig.  His  for  her  has  been  for  a 
long  while  evident.  If  you  are  sure  of  your 
ground  as  to  her  attitude  in  this  delicate  mat 
ter,  I  commend  your  courage  and  your  self- 
sacrifice,  though  through  them  I  lose  one  of 
my  dearest  hopes." 

"There  is  little  of  either  involved,"  said 
Robert.  "We  should  never  have  suited  each 
other — Betty  and  I.  And  while  our  friend 
ship  has  been  genuine  and  our  comradeship 
pleasant,  neither  of  us  has  ever  looked  our 
affection  in  the  face,  to  test  its  reality;  but 
we  have  each  rather  evaded  a  realization  of 
its  coldness.  It  has  been  all  the  while  touched 
with  a  certain  frostiness,  mother,  that — that 
Milly's  red  mouth  would  melt  in  a  minute." 

He  laughed  softly  with  his  concluding 
words. 


ROBIN  AROON  41 

"Don't  talk  to  me  about  Milly,"  said  Mrs. 
Henning,  half-smiling,  half-impatient,  and 
with  a  suspicious  moisture  in  her  eyes  which 
called  for  the  intervention  of  her  cambric 
handkerchief.  "She's  a  hoyden  girl,  who  is 
only  one  degree  removed  from  Nancy  Carter 
in  her  wildness;  and  besides,  she's  your 
cousin." 

"Older  and  far  more  mature  than  Nancy, 
mother,"  Robert  said  solemnly. 

Mrs.  Henning  arose,  and  kissing  her  son 
on  the  forehead,  left  the  room,  with  the 
leather  key-basket  in  her  hand. 


THE  THIRD  CHAPTER 

THE   CAP   OF  YOUTH 

The  night  breeze  came  from  the  river, 
cool  and  soft  and  sweet,  and  faintly  stirred 
the  curtains  at  the  open  windows.  Here  and 
there,  on  the  uncertain  water,  the  dark  figures 
of  three  or  four  ships  lay  in  the  track  of  the 
low-hanging  moon  against  a  lesser  darkness, 
with  now  and  then  a  light  showing  like  a 
jewel  on  the  breast  of  it. 

Through  the  lit  casement  of  an  upper 
chamber  in  the  Bushy  Park  house  rose  to  the 
ears  of  the  two  girls  within,  whose  hair  was 
being  craped  by  two  negro  maids,  a  hum  of 
conversation  from  the  men  sitting  in  a  row 
of  chairs  facing  the  porch  below.  The  men 
sat  with  their  feet  on  the  steps,  and  smoked 
tobacco  in  long-stemmed  clay  pipes,  while 
they  talked  politics.  Mingled  with  their  talk 
came  to  the  young  women  above,  the  clearer 
and  more  distinct  twanging  of  a  guitar  to  the 
alternate  accompaniment  of  a  tenor  voice, 
and  snatches  of  a  girl's  silver  soprano  in  an 


ROBIN  AROON  43 

indistinguishable  song.  The  ending  of  the 
music  was  followed  by  a  half-smothered 
scream  of  the  soprano  singer,  and  then  by  the 
melodious  laughter  of  youth  and  maiden  in 
unison.  The  voices  of  the  smokers  by  the 
steps  ceased,  and  the  incense  of  their  tobacco 
floated  higher.  They  were  listening. 

"That's  Evelyn  Harrison  and  David," 
said  the  younger  of  the  two  girls.  "I  protest 
that  boy  is  a  terror.  Here,  Libby,  don't 
spend  all  your  energies  on  that  part  of  my 
head.  The  fiddle  will  soon  sound  for  the 
dance,  and  I  shall  be  late." 

"I  don't  care  much  if  I  miss  it  this  evening. 
One  gets  tired  of  dancing  every  day,"  said 
the  other  girl,  who,  seated  in  front  of  a 
Sheraton  dresser,  was  surveying  with  pensive 
pleasure  her  handsome  and  high-bred  counte 
nance  in  the  swinging  mirror.  Her  maid, 
Dilsey,  having  finished  the  craping  business, 
stood  behind  her  with  an  artificial  rose  in  her 
hand,  and  inquired: 

"Whar  'bouts  in  yo'  haid  is  I  gwi'  stick 
dis-here  bloom,  Miss  Betsy?" 

"Of  course  you  don't  care  for  the  danc 
ing,"  said  the  first  speaker,  a  small  blonde 
lady,  barely  turned  of  twenty  years,  whose 


44  ROBIN  AROON 

blue  eyes  and  pink  cheeks  combined  with  her 
soft  light  hair  and  her  plump  little  figure  to 
make  a  most  attractive  appearance.  She  was 
dressed  in  a  chintz  cotton  gown  with  a  pretty 
dark-blue  figure  stamped  on  it,  a  sky-blue 
silk  quilt,  and  an  apron  with  dark  blue  dots 
of  the  size  of  a  shilling.  Her  yellow  hair 
had  been  craped  up  with  two  rolls  at  each  side 
by  the  accomplished  and  now  smiling  Libby; 
and  on  the  top  of  her  pretty  little  head  was 
a  fetching  small  cap  of  gauze  and  lace, 
adorned  with  the  conventional  artificial 
flower  of  the  period. 

"Of  course  the  dances  do  not  interest  you 
now,  since  Mr.  Greig  does  not  dance;  though 
I  remember  it  was  not  so  when  Robin  first 
came  back  from  Williamsburg.  I  vow, 
Betty,  you  are  treating  Robert  Henning 
shamefully,  coquetting  so  with  this  Scotch 
man.  And  your  wedding-day  set  for  Septem 
ber,  too!" 

The  other  girl's  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  she 
turned  her  face  away  from  the  little  mirror 
and  looked  out  of  the  window  into  the  dark 
ness,  where  the  far-away,  uncertain  lights 
moved  fitfully  on  the  face  of  the  waters.  She 
made  no  reply. 


ROBIN  AROON  45 

"I  hear  that  Captain  Blaise,  the  English 
man,  who  is  at  Merry  Point,  from  the  new 
ship  just  come  in,  will  be  here  to-night,"  chat 
tered  her  companion  inconsequently.  "He 
made  great  fame  for  himself  as  a  dancer 
when  he  came  out  from  England  last  year. 
They  do  say  that  I  shall  be  highly  diverted 
with  his  minuets.  I  intend  to  make  him 
dance  one  to-night." 

"Captain  Blaise  is  not  a  graceful  dancer, 
Mary,"  said  the  dark-eyed  girl  quietly. 
"Perhaps  he  does  not  have  so  many  oppor 
tunities  of  practice  as  our  young  gentlemen. 
But  he  is  a  very  pleasant  person.  He  has 
all  the  qualifications  of  an  accomplished  gen 
tleman;  and  in  addition  his  dress  is  very 
genteel  and  pretty." 

"Adieu !  I  hear  the  fiddle !"  exclaimed  the 
blonde  beauty,  jumping  quickly  from  her 
seat.  "Here,  Libby,  fasten  this  shoe,  quick." 

She  lifted  the  skirts  of  the  chintz  gown  to 
a  height  that  would  have  been  indiscreet 
downstairs,  and  showed  amid  frilled  sugges 
tions  of  snowy  petticoats  a  tapering  ankle  in 
a  blue  silk  stocking  that  terminated  in  a  little 
foot  with  a  finely  arched  instep,  clad  in  a  blue 


46  ROBIN  AROON 

morocco  shoe,  high-heeled  and  silver- 
buckled. 

The  delighted  Libby  made  fast  the  shoe, 
and  the  girl  ran  out  of  the  room  with  the 
skirt  of  her  gown  still  caught  in  the  jeweled 
fingers. 

"I'll  tell  Robin  his  holy  Saint  Elizabeth  is 
in  the  doldrums  again  to-night,"  she  called 
back  from  the  doorway. 

At  the  first  notes  of  David's  violin  the 
young  women  and  men  had  gathered,  after 
the  custom  of  the  place,  in  the  long  hall  which 
ran  the  front  length  of  the  house,  that  was 
now  illuminated  with  the  soft  effulgence  of 
wax  candles,  in  sconces  and  in  silver  candle 
sticks,  set  here  and  there  on  little  tables.  The 
family  pictures  of  five  generations  in  the  Col 
ony,  painted  by  Lely  and  Reynolds  and 
Bridges  and  Hesselius, — the  portrait  paint 
ers,  great  and  small,  in  London  and  Vir 
ginia — looked  down  from  the  walls,  in  the 
glory  of  satin  and  lace  and  velvet  and  peri 
wig  and  patch  on  chin.  With  set,  unchang 
ing  faces,  and  strangely  pursuing  eyes,  the 
dead  burgesses  and  councillors  and  their  de 
parted  womankind — consorts  and  sisters  and 
daughters — gazed  from  their  fixed  places  on 


ROBIN  AROON  47 

the  glittering  apparition  of  this  later  genera 
tion,  who  were  kindled  with  the  same  joys  of 
youth  and  hope  and  love  as  these  their  pro 
totypes  had  also  once  known  and  long  ago 
forgotten,  since  for  them  the  pageant  of  life 
had  passed. 

When  Robert  Henning  entered  the  hall 
through  the  open  door,  he  saw  descending  the 
wide  stairway  at  its  eastern  end  the  dark-eyed 
girl  who  had  some  minutes  before  protested 
to  her  room-mate  that  she  was  tired  of  the 
dances.  She  was  dressed  in  a  lead-colored 
habit  that  was  open  in  front,  showing  a  lilac 
lutestring  petticoat.  Her  hair,  under  Dil- 
sey's  deft  hand,  had  been  craped  high  on  a 
cushion,  and  the  red  rose  glowed  above  it. 

Robert  stepped  forward  to  meet  her;  and 
at  the  sight  of  him  there  was  an  outbreak  of 
light  and  color  in  her  handsome  face. 

"I  shan't  dance  to-night,  Robert,"  she 
murmured,  as  taking  her  hand  he  led  her 
down  the  hall.  "Let  me  help  with  the  mu 
sic." 

"As  you  wish,"  he  answered.  "I  have 
something  to  say  to  you,  Betty." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  quick  glance  of 
wonderment. 


48  ROBIN  AROON 

"I  shall  turn  the  music-sheets  for  you,"  he 
added. 

He  escorted  her  down  the  length  of  the 
great  hall  to  where  the  spinet  stood  in  the 
western  end;  and  the  chatter  of  the  gathered 
company  was  involuntarily  hushed  as  the  eyes 
of  men  and  women  alike  regarded  their  grace 
ful  progress. 

"No  handsomer  couple  have  ever  walked 
down  the  aisle  of  the  Middle  Church  to  the 
altar,  madam,"  commented  Colonel  Selden 
to  Mrs.  Henning.  "It  is  getting  high  time 
for  Betty  to  be  fixing  a  day  for  what  the 
country-side  understands  has  been  agreed  on 
for  these  years.  There  could  be  no  more 
charming  successor  to  the  present  charming 
mistress  of  Bushy  Park  than  Betty  Berkeley. 
'A  very  riband  in  the  cap  of  youth,'  "  he 
added,  smiling. 

Mrs.  Henning  was  seated  near  one  of  the 
front  windows;  and  the  Colonel,  standing 
near,  bowed  to  her  with  courtly  grace.  He 
noted  that  she  made  no  audible  response;  but 
moving  her  turkey-wing  fan  faintly,  smiled 
with  a  face  that  seemed  to  him  somewhat  wan 
and  drawn.  Then  he  feared  that  he  had 


ROBIN  AROON  49 

blundered,   and  moved  quietly  away,  saying 
in  his  thought: 

"The  widow  doesn't  like  the  idea  of  abdi 
cating  to  any  other  queen." 

In  the  meanwhile  Elizabeth  Berkeley  had 
seated  herself  at  the  spinet;  and  to  its  music 
and  the  accompaniment  of  David's  violin,  the 
younger  people  danced  a  minuet  of  much 
bowing  and  curtsying,  varied  with  snatches  of 
sentences  and  outbreaks  of  light  laughter. 

"Aren't  you  going  to  dance?"  she  asked 
Henning,  looking  up  to  him  with  the  dark, 
deep  eyes  that  had  always  seemed  to  him  to 
contain  in  them  mysteries  that  it  would  never 
be  given  him  to  fathom. 

"This  is  better,"  he  answered  softly. 
"When  the  older  people  begin  talking  I  can 
tell  you  what  I  want  to  say." 

In  a  few  moments  scraps  of  conversation 
began  to  be  audible  above  the  lower  notes  of 
the  music. 

"Mr.  Ball  and  Mr.  Ludwell  made  each 
girl  a  present  of  a  pound  of  powder — " 

—He  had  just  returned  from  the  races 
at  Fredericksburg.     Dr.  Flood's  horse — " 
4 


50  ROBIN  AROON 

" — They  say  Mr.  Burwell  got  his  discard 
that  week — " 

" — I  understand  they  will  go  from  Ravens- 
worth  to  Chatham,  before  returning — " 

And  so  the  swift-winged  gossip  ran  in  va 
rious  masculine  and  feminine  tones  of  airy 
emptiness. 

"I  am  going  away  to-morrow,  Saint  Eliza 
beth,"  he  said  softly,  bending  over  her;  and 
it  seemed  to  her,  in  the  tenderness  of  his 
voice  and  in  the  surprise  of  his  speech,  that 
he  had  shouted  it  aloud  to  the  company. 
There  was  for  a  single  moment  a  faltering 
break  in  the  music,  that  had  almost  put  the 
dancers  out  of  time. 

"I  know  why  you  are  going,  Robert,"  she 
murmured  in  words  so  faint  that  he  could 
scarcely  hear  them  above  the  chords  of  the 
instrument.  David  turned  to  look  at  the  two ; 
and  wondered  why  she  should  have  lost  that 
note,  and  what  made  her  face  so  pale. 

"Where's  Greig?"  asked  Henning,  with  a 
half-smile.  "I  haven't  laid  eyes  on  him  since 
breakfast." 

Again  the  swift  glance  went  up  to  him, 
with  an  appeal  breaking  forth  from  the  mys- 


ROBIN  AROON  51 

tery  of  her  eyes.  He  saw  that  there  was  a 
dew  of  tears  on  the  lashes. 

"I  am  glad  that  you  have  found  it  out  for 
yourself,  Robert,"  she  whispered.  "It 
would  have  been  hard  for  me  ever  to  tell  you. 
I  should  never  have  let  any  one  know." 

David's  violin  sang  louder,  with  a  human 
voice  of  reproach,  as  once  more  a  note  was 
missed  in  the  music  of  the  spinet.  The 
dancers  danced  on  with  bow  and  curtsy  and 
mingled  jest  and  laughter.  Captain  Blaise 
of  The  Friendship,  a  sturdy  sailor,  now  clad 
in  the  height  of  the  London  fashion  in  honor 
of  his  provincial  acquaintances,  was  dancing 
the  minuet  with  a  solemn  countenance  and  an 
evident  sincerity  that  had  awakened  the  ill- 
concealed  amusement  of  his  young  partner, 
the  blonde  girl  in  the  chintz  gown  of  the 
blue-print  pattern. 

"I  protest,  your  dancing  is  divine,  Captain 
Blaise,"  she  laughed  to  him;  and  he  bowed 
in  rigid  acknowledgment. 

"The  romance  that  our  elders  fashioned 
for  us  so  painstakingly  was,  I  doubt  not,  very 
pleasing  to  them  in  the  perspective,"  Henning 
was  whispering  to  Betty,  while  the  others 
danced  and  laughed.  "But  the  god  of  love 


52  ROBIN  AROON 

is  a  self-willed  young  deity,  and  aims  his  own 
arrows.  I  think  Greig  is  a  monstrous  clever 
man,  and  I  look  to  see  him  do  great  things 
some  day." 

She  bent  over  the  keys;  and  the  music  of 
the  stately  dance  died  away  with  the  last  notes 
of  David's  violin. 

"Isn't  Captain  Blaise  perfection?"  ex 
claimed  the  blonde,  chintz  girl,  to  David,  in 
easy  hearing  of  the  sailor,  who  at  once  hove- 
to  in  his  voyage  down  the  hall,  and  came  to 
anchor  near  her. 

Betty,  with  her  hand  on  Robert's  arm, 
passed  with  him  amid  the  chattering  crowd, 
out  through  the  great  hall  door  under  the 
leaded  fan-window,  into  the  white  pillared 
portico. 

The  short,  silken-clad  legs  of  Master  Da 
vid,  who  was  thick  set  and  chubby,  soon  grew 
weary  of  the  country  dance  that  followed  the 
minuet,  and  for  which  Mrs.  Henning  made 
the  music  upon  the  harpsichord. 

"It's  awfully  tiresome,"  he  said  to  his 
pretty  little  partner,  Miss  Evelyn  Harrison 
of  Wakefield,  who  regarded  the  junior  son  of 
the  house  of  Henning  with  an  interest  that 
had  secretly,  but  none  the  less  profoundly,  re- 


ROBIN  AROON  53 

joiced  at  the  departure  on  yesterday  of  Nancy 
Carter. 

"This  dancing  business  every  night  pleases 
you  girls  vastly;  but  I  would  inform  you  'tis 
a  perfect  nuisance  to  us  men." 

"Us  men!"  the  young  lady  mimicked,  with 
a  simulated  scorn  that  but  thinly  veiled  her 
admiration  of  her  companion.  "I  vow,  I 
like  your  courage,  young  sir." 

"Come,  fair  Eve,  destroyer  of  Paradise," 
laughed  the  boy;  "I  have  some  sweet  noth 
ings  to  whisper  into  your  shell-like  ear;  and 
there  are  others  listening  about  us." 

He  led  her,  not  unwillingly,  to  the  stair 
way  at  the  eastern  end  of  the  hall ;  where  with 
much  proper  bestowing  of  skirts,  in  which 
David  seemed  to  take  an  unwonted  interest, 
she  seated  herself  on  one  of  the  lower  steps. 
He  perched  beside  her,  and  the  girl  languish 
ed  at  him;  while  now  and  then  some  passer 
by  saw  the  little  love-game  and  laughed. 

The  boy,  observing  her  mood,  with  a  fine 
masculine  disregard  of  the  attainable,  and  a 
half-tender,  half-humorous  memory  of  Nancy 
Carter  and  her  clipped  eyebrows,  sighed  and 
soliloquized: 

"Heigho!     But  I  do  miss  Nancy!" 


54  ROBIN  AROON 

His  companion's  face  took  on  a  momentary 
soberness,  which  passed  in  a  smile  for  fear 
that  he  would  see  it. 

"Don't  you?"  he  queried  softly,  regard 
ing  her  with  seductive  eyes. 

"Oh,  did  the  girls  tell  you  about  Nancy's 
trick,  David?"  she  parried  swiftly,  with  a 
deft  ignoring  of  his  blunt  question,  and  a 
stout  maintenance  of  the  subject.  "Did 
Elenor  tell  you?" 

"My  sister  Elenor  seldom  confides  in  me," 
he  answered  with  dignity.  "She  would  give 
Jack  Carter  a  dozen  confidences  where  she 
gave  me*half  a  one." 

"Oh,  but  about  her  eyebrows,"  persisted 
Miss  Harrison.  "You  heard  about  Nancy's 
eyebrows?" 

"You're  glad  she's  gone,"  said  David,  fac 
ing  her,  and  pretending  a  regretful  sternness. 
"Now,  aren't  you,  Evelyn?" 

"I  don't  care  a  pistareen,"  said  the  young 
miss  defiantly,  thus  crowded  into  a  corner. 
"You  wouldn't  have  loved  her  anyhow  with 
her  eyebrows  all  clipped  off,  and  looking  so 
pale-faced  and  pasty." 

"Pale-faced  and  pasty !  ho,  ho !  Of 
course  you're  glad  she's  gone!"  persisted 


ROBIN  AROON  55 

David,  his  simulated  sternness  vanishing  in  a 
laugh  of  complacency  at  the  implied  confes 
sion  that  he  had  wrung  from  her. 

"Not  I,  in  sooth,"  she  answered,  with  an 
unyielding  spirit  and  a  flame  in  her  cheeks. 
"Why  should  I  care?  She  might  stay  here 
till  doomsday." 

The  boy  chuckled. 

"Evelyn,"  he  said,  looking  into  her  eyes, 
"you're  a  dear  little  liarl" 

She  arose  in  a  wrath,  half-genuine,  half- 
affected;  and  catching  up  her  short  silken 
skirt,  with  a  flash  of  silver  shoe-buckles,  ran 
up  the  stairway.  He  did  not  seek  to  pursue 
her;  but,  conscious  of  his  conquest,  stood  still 
to  survey  her  graceful  flight.  He  saw  her 
pause  on  the  broad  landing,  and  lean  for  a 
moment  over  the  balustrade,  looking  down. 
Then  he  laughed  up  at  her. 

With  a  well-directed  aim  from  her  coign 
of  vantage  she  struck  him  on  his  upturned 
face  with  the  rose  which  she  had  worn  in  her 
craped  hair.  He  started  up  the  steps  in  pur 
suit  of  her;  and  she  vanished  from  the  land 
ing,  leaving  an  echo  of  mocking  mirth. 

He  turned,  and  walking  slowly  down  the 
steps,  picked  up  the  rose. 


THE  FOURTH  CHAPTER 

DAVID'S  LOVE-SONG 

When  the  dancing  was  ended,  the  old  din 
ing-room  servant  entered  the  hall,  and  made 
an  elaborate  though  deprecatory  bow,  as 
though  it  were  with  great  regret  that  he  in 
truded  upon  such  gayety.  Then  he  announc 
ed  that  dinner  was  served. 

Colonel  Selden  offered  his  arm  to  Mrs. 
Henning;  and  the  company,  paired  off  as  oc 
casion  presented  itself,  proceeded  to  the  din 
ing-room.  David  escorted  his  young  sister, 
Elenor,  to  whom  his  gibes  and  jests  seemed  to 
afford  infinite  amusement;  while  Henning 
brought  up  the  rear  of  the  procession  with 
Elizabeth  Berkeley.  Mr.  Greig,  the  grave- 
faced,  raw-boned,  red-headed  Scotch  teacher, 
who  had  seen  David's  "sweet  little  liar"  run 
up  the  stairway,  awaited  her  return  to  save 
her  the  embarrassment  of  entering  the  dining- 
room  alone;  and  as  he  waited,  kept  his  gaze 
fixed  on  the  tall  slim  figure  of  Elizabeth  Berk- 


ROBIN  AROON  57 

eley,  until  it  passed  out  of  sight  down  the 
hall-passage. 

After  the  bustle  of  being  seated  at  the  long 
table  had  subsided,  a  general  conversation  en 
sued,  the  chief  topic  of  which  was  the  arrival 
in  the  river  of  Captain  Blaise's  ship.  A  num 
ber  of  packages  and  hampers  had  preceded 
the  coming  of  that  gentleman  to  the  house; 
and  Mrs.  Henning  and  several  of  the  girls 
had  busied  themselves  in  the  afternoon  with 
unpacking  them. 

"Have  you  seen  your  mother's  importa 
tions  for  the  table?"  asked  Saint  Elizabeth  of 
Robert  Henning. 

"No,"  he  answered,  pausing  in  the  effort 
of  carving  the  small  long  ham  which  fronted 
him;  "what  are  they?" 

"A  beautiful  pair  of  fashionable  silver  gob 
lets,  a  pair  of  silver  sauce-cups,  and  a  pair  of 
elegant  silver  decanter  holders,"  she  said. 

"And  all  with  the  family  crest  and  motto," 
chimed  in  Miss  Agatha  Randolph,  sitting 
next  to  Mr.  Lee. 

"That's  a  fine  ham,  Robert,"  observed  Col 
onel  Selden,  regarding  it  with  the  air  of  a 
bon-vivant.  "When  you  reach  me,  cut  near 
the  hock." 


58  ROBIN  AROON 

Then  he  turned  to  Mrs.  Henning  and  con 
tinued: 

"It  is  needless  to  tell  you,  madam,  that  the 
value  of  a  ham  depends  on  its  curing;  though 
the  hog  should  not  be  too  fat.  I  always  kill 
my  hogs  when  the  wind  is  from  the  north. 
Make  a  strong  pepper-tea,  just  before  salt 
ing.  Put  about  a  spoonful  of  saltpetre  to 
every  gallon  of  the  pepper-mixture,  pouring 
the  tea  on  the  salt.  Pack  the  meat  for  about 
four  days.  Then  rub  with  salt  and  Jamaica 
molasses,  dashed  with  Demarara  rum.  Pack 
again  for  two  weeks.  At  the  end  of  the  fort 
night  wash  in  warm  water,  and  anoint  with 
ashes  of  hickory  wood.  Smoke  with  green 
hickory;  and  kill  the  nigger,  ma'am,  that  lets 
the  smoke-house  fire  go  out." 

He  smiled  reminiscently,  with  a  gathering 
of  gustatory  juices  in  his  mouth. 

"  'Tis  half  in  the  cooking,  Colonel  Selden," 
answered  Mrs.  Henning,  who  was  engaged  in 
depositing  a  fried  chicken-leg  on  a  corn  batter- 
cake  for  Captain  Blaise;  and  those  nearest 
her  paused  to  listen. 

"Will  you  favor  me  with  your  method, 
madam?"  asked  the  Colonel  with  attention. 

"Soak  the  ham  for  two  days  and  nights. 


ROBIN  AROON  59 

Let  it  simmer  in  very  hot  water,  half  an  hour 
for  each  pound.  At  the  end  of  half  the  time 
pour  off  the  water,  and  fill  again  with  boiling 
water.  Put  in  a  half  cupful  of  vinegar,  and 
some  cloves  and  cinnamon  and  allspice.  Let 
it  soak  till  the  time  is  ended.  What  piece 
of  the  chicken  do  you  like,  Evelyn?" 

Miss  Harrison  liked  a  leg,  and  a  gizzard 
to  make  her  pretty. 

" — Then  you  let  the  ham  cool  in  the  water, 
Colonel,  and  take  off  the  skin.  Put  on 
enough  mustard,  and  cover  with  an  egg's  yel 
low.  Sprinkle  with  bread-crumbs,  slash  with 
a  sharp  knife,  and  put  in  a  pint  of  sherry. 
Bake  for  a  half  hour,  basting  every  five  min 
utes;  and  there  you  are!" 

"Fine!"  exclaimed  Colonel  Selden,  clap 
ping  his  hands;  "and  never  forget  to  bury 
the  ham  in  clean  earth  for  a  few  days  before 
hand,  if  it  be  old." 

"And  skin  the  little  darky  that  goes  to 
sleep  over  the  basting,"  added  Robert  as  he 
carved  for  Colonel  Selden  two  generous  slices 
near  the  hock. 

"I  thank  you,  madam,"  said  Colonel  Sel 
den,  with  unaffected  gratitude ;  and  bowed  to 
Mrs.  Henning. 


60  ROBIN  AROON 

"Did  my  watch  and  Robert's  seal  ring 
come?"  asked  David  of  his  mother,  with  boy 
ish  eagerness,  as  soon  as  the  colloquy  over  the 
ham  was  at  an  end.  He  pinched  his  sister 
Elenor  under  the  table,  and  whispered  wrath- 
fully: 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  me  about  this  sooner, 
miss?" 

"You  saw  the  ship,  and  there's  Captain 
Blaise,"  said  Elenor.  "I  thought  you  would 
have  sense  enough  to  know." 

Raising  her  voice,  Elenor  asked: 

"And  the  other  things,  mother?" 

"Let's  leave  the  other  things  for  another 
occasion,  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Henning,  with  a 
gentle  smile  on  her  face. 

"Have  a  dish  of  tea,  Captain  Blaise,"  she 
said  to  the  Englishman;  and  she  poured  him 
a  cup  from  the  ebony-handled  teapot  near  her. 

"Tea  still  reigns  at  Bushy  Park,  madam, 
my  Lord  North  notwithstanding,"  murmured 
Mr.  Ball,  a  white-haired  old  gentleman,  with 
a  rosy  face  and  a  winning  smile.  He  rubbed 
his  hands  together  with  pleasurable  anticipa 
tion  as  he  addressed  her. 

"I  see  the  tax  has  no  terror  for  you,  Mr. 
Ball,"  said  Mrs.  Henning.  "I  am  almost 


ROBIN  AROON  61 

afraid  to  offer  the  beverage  to  some  of  the 
gentlemen." 

"The  privilege  of  age,  madam,  the  privi 
lege  of  age,"  responded  Mr.  Ball.  "I  damn 
the  tax  and  drink  the  tea,  madam.  Damn 
the  tax,  and  drink  the  tea." 

Elenor  Henning,  under  cover  of  Mr.  Ball's 
observation  upon  the  burning  political  issue 
of  the  day,  said  to  the  young  woman  next  her, 
the  dainty  creature  of  the  golden  crimped  hair 
and  the  dimity  dress,  whom  Captain  Blaise 
at  regular  intervals  stared  at  from  his  seat 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  table : 

"Listen,  Polly,  I've  got  the  invoice  of  my 
own  things  in  my  pocket.  Wait  a  moment, 
and  I'll  read  it  to  you.  Turn  your  head  the 
other  way,  David." 

David  declined  the  invitation  mutely,  and 
with  aroused  attention.  Elenor  produced  a 
piece  of  paper,  and  began  to  read  its  contents 
in  a  low  tone  to  Polly. 

"What's  that,  Nelly?"  asked  David,  peer 
ing  over  from  his  side.  "A  love-letter?" 

Captain  Blaise,  with  a  changeless  expres 
sion  on  his  wooden  face,  and  an  apparent  lack 
of  interest  in  aught  but  his  plate,  lifted  his 
eyes  and  stared  at  David.  Then  he  laughed 


62  ROBIN  AROON 

aloud,    a    laugh    that   seemed   to    hurt   him. 
Elenor  read  on : 

"  'INVOICE  FOR  Miss  ELEXOR  HENNING. 

A  fashionable  Laced  Cap,  Handkerchief,  Ruf 
fles  &  Tuckes,  £7 .  o.o 
A  fashionable  Brocade  Suit,  16.  o.o 
A  pair  of   Stays,  2.   o.o 
A    blue    Satin     Petticoat    £i.,     Scarlet     Cloth 

Under  Petticoat  £2,  3.  o.o 

A    Pair   of   Blue   Satin    Shoes, — full    trimmed,  1.16.0 

A  Hoop  £i.,  a  Pr.  Blue  Silk  Stockings  £0.12,  1.12.0 

A  fashionable  Silver  Girdle  £i.,  A  Fan  £i.,  2.  o.o 


£33.   8.0'" 

"La,  mother!"  called  David.  "Hear  your 
dear  daughter  Elenor." 

The  company  laid  down  knives  and  forks 
to  listen. 

"She's  telling  George  Lee  about  her  new 
blue-silk  stockings,  and  her  new  pair  of  stays." 

A  rose-color  illumined  Miss  Elenor's  fair 
face. 

"That's  a  vile  story,  David!"  she  gasped. 

"David!"  said  Mrs.  Henning  warningly, 
and  shaking  her  head  at  him. 

"I  vow,"  exclaimed  young  Mr.  Lee,  both 
to  relieve  Miss  Henning's  embarrassment  and 
to  egg  Master  Henning  on,  "I  hope  the  stays 
are  not  the  newest  fashion,  Miss  Elenor.  I 


ROBIN  AROON  63 

saw  a  lady  at  Nomini  last  week  with  the  new 
London  style  of  stays.  They  seemed  suited 
to  come  up  to  the  upper  part  of  her  shoulders, 
almost  to  her  chin;  and  were  swathed  round 
her  as  low  as  they  could  possibly,  allowing  her 
any  liberty  to  walk." 

"God  bless  my  soul!  is  it  possible?"  ejacu 
lated  Mr.  Ball,  setting  down  his  second  cup 
of  tea.  "God  bless  my  soul!" 

Captain  Blaise  again  laughed  aloud,  with 
out  the  change  of  a  muscle. 

"To  be  sure,  'twas  a  vastly  modest  dress, 
Miss  Elenor,"  continued  George  Lee.  "Do 
the  new  stays  seem  to  be  the  rage  in  London 
town,  Captain  Blaise?" 

"Don't  know,"  responded  the  sailor,  star 
ing.  "Have  no  talent  in  stays,"  and  he  re 
sumed  his  interrupted  attention  to  his  dinner. 

"Tell  us  about  the  newest  a  la  mode  in 
ladies'  stockings,  Mr.  Lee,"  besought  David 
flatteringly.  "What  are  said  to  be  the  most 
approved  colors?  Is  blue  silk  fashionable?" 

"David,  you  may  withdraw,"  said  his 
mother,  with  severity;  and  Mr.  Lee's  persi 
flage  ceased.  David  arose  and  departed, 
pausing  a  moment  at  the  door  to  beckon  with 
significant  forefinger  to  Evelyn  Harrison,  who 


64  ROBIN  AROON 

smiled  at  him  with  a  negative  shake  of  her 
curly  head. 

The  conversation  became  general,  and  the 
room  was  filled  with  the  chatter  and  laughter 
of  youth  and  happiness,  and  lit  with  the  in 
dulgent  smiles  of  those  from  whom  youth  had 
departed  only  to  leave  contentment.  The 
painted  men  and  women  on  the  wainscoted 
walls,  who  had  been  known  alive  of  Lely  or 
Reynolds  or  Bridges  or  Hesselius,  gazed 
down  with  their  pursuing  eyes,  seeming  the 
while  to  wear  on  their  proud  faces  something 
of  that  reverence  which  is  the  essential  qual 
ity  of  gentle  birth  and  breeding. 

When  the  dinner  was  ended,  at  a  signal 
from  Mrs.  Henning  the  ladies  arose;  and 
while  the  men,  also  arising,  stood  ceremoni 
ously,  left  the  room. 

"Come  on,  Mr.  Greig,"  called  David  from 
the  open  doorway  to  the  Scotch  tutor,  who 
had  sat  for  the  most  part  silent  through  the 
meal;  and  the  Scotchman  followed  the  ladies 
into  the  drawing-room. 

"I'm  not  allowed  to  toast,  and  you've  no 
mind  to,"  said  the  boy,  as  he  and  Greig  van 
ished  from  the  sight  of  the  other  men  in  the 
wake  of  the  ladies. 


ROBIN  AROON  65 

The  gentlemen  seated  themselves  again  at 
the  table ;  and  the  old  negro  dining-room  ser 
vant  set  decanters  and  goblets  of  cut  glass  in 
rose-patterns  upon  the  board. 

"Sugar  and  hot  water  with  the  brandy, 
William,"  commanded  Robert  Henning. 
"Bring  the  old  madeira,  and  some  of  the  last 
cask  of  West  India  rum.  I  think  you  take 
yours  in  a  dram,  Colonel,  instead  of  a  toddy," 
he  observed  to  Colonel  Selden. 

"The  dram,  Robert,"  interjected  old  Mr. 
Ball.  "Sugar  is  a  mistake.  The  dram's  the 
thing." 

From  the  drawing-room  adjoining  came 
David's  fine  tenor  voice,  singing  for  the  ladies 
to  the  melodious  accompaniment  of  Greig  up 
on  the  violin.  The  words  of  the  boy's  song 
caused  Robert  to  smile  significantly  at  Colonel 
Selden,  as  the  wine  began  to  circulate. 

"  'Ah,  Chloris,  could  I  now  but  sit 

As  unconcerned  as  when 
Your  infant  beauty  could  beget 

No  happiness  or  pain ! 
When  I  the  dawn  used  to  admire, 

And  praised  the  coming  day, 
I  little  thought  the  rising  fire 

Would  take  my  rest  away-' " 


66  ROBIN  AROON 

"That's  for  Evelyn  Harrison,  Colonel," 
said  Robert,  with  a  chuckle. 

"Ah!"  murmured  the  Colonel,  over  his 
madeira.  He  smiled  in  his  turn,  as  his 
thought  conjured  up  the  vision  of  his  own  gay 
youth,  singing  love-songs  to  some  Amaryllis 
long  since  asleep  in  the  graveyard  of  the  Mid 
dle  Church. 

"God  bless  'em,  Robin !"  he  said,  with  the 
glass  at  his  lips. 

In  their  picturesque  dress,  and  with  the 
suavity  of  their  polished  manners  compelling 
them,  these  men,  no  less  than  the  women  who 
had  but  lately  sat  with  them,  seemed,  as  in 
deed  they  were,  some  gracious  portion  of  an 
old  world  of  society  that  had  rooted  itself  in 
the  soil  of  centuries.  They  were  of  a  new 
country  in  comparison  with  that  which  their 
forbears  had  left,  and  the  social  earth  was 
scarcely  more  than  virgin.  Yet  here  was 
blooming  in  unsurpassed  beauty  and  undi- 
minished  splendor  the  full-blown  flower  of  an 
ancient  and  lordly  race. 

"Is  that  the  Scotchman  playing  the  fiddle?" 
queried  Mr.  Lee  of  Robert  Henning.  When 
informed  that  Greig  was  quite  an  accomplish- 


ROBIN  AROON  67 

ed  musician,  he  expressed  a  dislike  of  the 
Scotch. 

"Should  my  sister  marry  one  of  them,  I 
would  never  speak  with  her  again,"  he  said; 
"and  if  I  have  a  daughter,  and  she  marry 
a  Scotchman,  I  shoot  her  dead  at  once !" 

It  was  the  hyperbole  of  exaggerated 
thought,  born  of  Henning's  madeira. 

"Your  prejudice  is  foolish,  George,"  com 
mented  his  cousin,  Mr.  Kendall,  across  the 
board.  "The  Scotch  are  becoming  influential 
people  in  the  colony.  I  observe  that  nearly 
all  the  merchants  and  store-keepers  in  my  ac 
quaintance  are  young  Scotchmen,  and  most  of 
them  of  good  family.  I  find  it  the  case 
throughout  the  Province." 

"Merchants  and  storekeepers,  forsooth!" 
said  Lee,  smiling  disdainfully. 

"The  Scotchmen?"  asked  Mr.  Ball,  from 
down  the  table.  "My  dear  sir,  they  make 
the  finest  of  all  tutors,  and  many  of  the  gen 
tlemen  have  them  in  their  families." 

"I  will  stand  sponsor  for  Mr.  Greig,"  ob 
served  Robert  Henning. 

"I  grant  you,  they  are  sometimes  good 
tailors,"  said  Lee.  "All  my  coats  and 
breeches,  save  those  for  dress  which  I  get 


68  ROBIN  AROON 

from  London,  are  made  by  a  Scotchman  in 
Fredericksburg  named  Paul — a  very  worthy 
man,  but  a  tailor." 

"When  your  friends,  Patrick  Henry  and 
Jefferson  and  Carr  in  the  Burgesses,  get  their 
revolution  well  under  way,  we  shall  have  need 
of  the  Greigs  and  the  Pauls,  and  the  other 
tailors  and  storekeepers  and.  tutors,"  said 
Colonel  Selden. 

"And  they  will  give  a  good  account  of 
themselves,  I  warrant,"  echoed  Mr.  Ball 
stoutly. 

Robert  Henning  arose,  and  holding  high 
his  glass,  brimmed  with  wine,  said: 

"The  toasts,  gentlemen!" 

When  the  crimson  vintage  glowed  in  each 
glass,  he  added:  "I  give  you  Mr.  Pope's 
pledge :  'To  all  our  loves !'  ' 

"Surely,  not  for  lack  of  a  better,  Robert," 
said  George  Lee,  forgetting  his  Scotchmen. 
He  was  thinking  of  Betty  Berkeley  beyond 
the  closed  doors  of  the  drawing-room,  from 
which  the  notes  of  Greig's  violin  still  bore 
upon  their  cadences  the  tuneful  words  of 
David's  love-song: 


ROBIN  AROON  69 

"  'Your  charms  in  harmless  childhood  lay 

Like  metals  in  a  mine; 
Age  from  no  face  takes  more  away 

Than  youth  concealed  in  thine. 
But  as  your  charms  insensibly 

To  their  perfection  prest, 
So  love  as  unperceived  did  fly, 

And  centered  in  my  breast.' " 

"Ha,  ha!"  laughed  Colonel  Selden  softly, 
with  a  look  at  Henning,  as  he  drained  his 
glass.  "God  bless  'em!" 


THE  FIFTH  CHAPTER 

ON  THE  DRAGON   SWAMP   ROAD 

Booted  and  spurred,  and  in  traveling  cos 
tume,  Robert  Henning  on  the  next  morning 
rode  out  of  the  great  gate  at  Bushy  Park; 
and  with  him  rode  old  Silas,  who  had  been 
carriage-driver  for  the  family  since  Robert's 
early  childhood. 

Silas's  withered  face  wore  an  expression  of 
wrinkled  misery.  In  front  of  him  was 
strapped  a  hugh  leather  portmanteau,  above 
which  he  discerned  at  intervals  the  tips  of  his 
horse's  ears. 

They  had  passed  the  ancient  sundial  on 
the  lawn,  with  its  unerring  iron  finger  point 
ing  the  passage  of  time,  and  its  no  less  uner 
ring  motto  graven  in  the  marble,  "Vita  um 
bra"  proclaiming  the  evanescence  of  even  a 
river  baron's  glory.  Henning  thought  of 
how  but  a  few  days  before  he  had  seen  Nancy 
Carter,  in  a  white  frock,  stretched  at  full  and 
charming  length  upon  the  greensward  there 
beside  it.  Each  detail  of  her  attitude  flashed 


ROBIN  AROON  71 

again  through  his  memory — the  taper  hand 
on  chin,  the  half-disclosed  elbow  in  the  grass, 
the  long  graceful  contour  of  body  and  limbs, 
the  contemplative  gaze  of  her  eyes  on  a  ship 
slowly  moving  down  the  river. 

The  recollection  of  her  lent  a  new  signifi 
cance  to  the  sundial. 

"A  most  alluring  minx,"  he  murmured, 
"with  a  devil  of  a  spirit." 

Beyond  the  gate,  to  the  right,  lay  the  broad 
waters  -of  Urbanna  Creek,  on  whose  western 
side  shone  through  the  white  morning  the 
early  sunlit  roofs  of  the  little  village.  A  dis 
tant  figure,  standing  erect  in  a  tiny  boat, 
seemed  a  speck  on  the  face  of  the  sparkling 
waters.  It  was  one  of  the  plantation  negroes 
tonging  oysters,  in  a  month  that  had  no  r  in 
it,  for  the  family's  breakfast  at  the  great 
house. 

The  sun  was  half  an  hour  high.  The  blue 
of  the  sky  was  stainless;  and  the  atmosphere 
seemed  of  translucent  gold.  At  Henning's 
back  the  stately  mansion  reared  its  gabled  and 
dormered  roof;  and  the  tall  chimneys  of  it, 
looking  far  across  the  mutable  river  to  where 
the  distant  banks  of  Lancaster  smiled  to  the 


72  ROBIN  AROON 

summer  morning,  flung  cool  shadows  over  the 
western  way. 

Dew-spangled  webs  lay  upon  the  lush  grass 
along  the  roadside;  and  through  the  tangle 
of  the  grass  tiny  morning  grasshoppers  were 
beginning  to  slip.  Early  bees,  from  the 
hives  at  the  quarters  to  the  east,  were  already 
busy  with  the  white  blooms  of  the  wild  black 
berries  along  the  outreaching  worm-fences. 
A  butterfly  on  rainbow-tinted  wings  drifted 
aimlessly  across  the  rider's  way,  wafted  by 
the  soft  breeze  that  came  up  from  the  river. 

"Mars'  Robert,"  said  Silas,  unmoved  by 
the  opulence  of  the  summer's  splendor. 

He  addressed  the  back  of  Robert  Henning, 
who  rode  a  few  paces  ahead,  with  the  long, 
swinging  stirrup  and  the  light  left-handed 
rein  of  the  genuine  Virginia  horseman.  A 
slight  drawing  of  the  bridle,  and  a  consequent 
pressure  on  the  bit,  checked  the  rapid  pace 
of  Henning's  horse;  and  Silas  drew  nearer. 

"Young  marster,"  repeated  Silas  anxiously, 
"is  you  a-gwine  all  de  way  f'om  Bushy  Park 
ter  de  Guff  o'  Nexico,  a-hoss-back,  like  dis- 
heer?  Hit's  a-killin'  yo'  po'  ole  nigger." 

Henning  chuckled  to  think  of  how  the  old 


ROBIN  AROON  73 

man  was  longing  for  his  seat  on  the  carriage- 
box. 

"Only  to  Williamsburg,  Silas,"  he  ans 
wered.  "We'll  get  a  chariot  and  a  pair  that  I 
know  of  there;  and  I'll  send  these  back  to 
David.  We'll  drive  most  of  the  way  to  the 
Gulf." 

Down  the  Dragon  Swamp  Road  they  went 
through  the  early  morning.  Their  way  lay 
past  the  tobacco  fields  of  the  Bushy  Park 
plantation;  and  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach 
the  earth  was  green  with  the  dark  rich  beauty 
of  the  nicotian  plant. 

The  Virginians  for  a  hundred  years  had 
heeded  the  irreverent  admonition  of  the  Eng 
lish  worthy,  who  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  upon  being  importuned 
for  aid  to  enlighten  and  save  their  provincial 
souls,  had  scornfully  ejaculated,  "Damn 
their  souls  !  Let  them  raise  tobacco !" 

They  had  raised  tobacco. 

The  commerce  in  the  weed  for  more  than 
a  century  had  continued  to  enrich  tremendous 
ly  the  river  barons  of  the  Colony;  and  now 
in  this  year  of  grace  1774,  the  tobacco  lords 
of  Glasgow  were  promenading  the  Trongate 
in  long  scarlet  robes  and  bushy  wigs,  thinking 


74  ROBIN  AROON 

of  the  forty-nine  thousand  hogsheads  which 
the  Scotch  burgh  in  the  twelvemonth  preced 
ing  had  imported  thence,  and  thanking  God 
that  they  possessed  such  fair  cause  to  name 
one  of  their  main  thoroughfares  with  the 
name  of  Virginia  Street. 

An  army  of  negro  slaves,  men  and  women, 
were  already  at  work  amid  the  greenness  of 
the  Bushy  Park  fields;  and  Silas's  comment 
to  his  master  that  "hit  look  lak  de  crop  gwine 
ter  be  a  fine  un,  dis  year,"  was  concurred  in 
by  the  lord  of  the  manor  with  a  nod. 

The  road  ran  nearly  parallel  with  the  river, 
that  was  visible  to  the  traveler  along  it,  shin 
ing  and  sparkling  beyond  the  expanse  of  the 
green  tobacco  fields.-  A  mile  from  the  Bushy 
Park  gate  it  veered  to  the  east,  traversing  the 
adjoining  plantation  of  Barn  Oaks,  until  be 
yond  a  fringe  of  woods  the  stuccoed  walls 
of  the  Glebe  appeared  in  sight. 

Out  of  the  Glebe  gate,  as  the  travelers 
drew  near,  trotted  into  the  main  road  to  join 
them  the  minister  of  the  parish  on  a  power 
ful  hunter,  which  he  bestrode  with  the  mili 
tary  mien  of  a  hussar  riding  to  battle. 

"Good  morning,  Parson,"  called  Henning, 
glad  of  other  company  than  Silas's,  though 


ROBIN  AROON  75 

but  for  a  little  distance.     "Whither  away  so 
betimes?" 

"I  have  an  invitation  to  dine  at  Grymeses' 
Brandon,"  said  the  Reverend  Mr.  Heffernan, 
with  a  rich  Irish  accent,  "and  I  must  stop  for 
some  hours  on  the  way  to  look  after  that  ras 
cally  carpenter,  Henderson,  who  is  repairing 
Christ  Church.  A  plague  on  the  rogue  son 
of  a  redemptioner.  If  he  were  a  slave,  I 
should  larrup  him.  Where  are  you  going 
with  all  that  luggage,  Robin,  machree?"  and 
he  cast  a  swift  glance  of  his  dark,  deepset  eyes 
at  Silas's  burden. 

"To  Williamsburg,  to  see  a  Shakesperian 
play  by  an  English  company,  just  arrived, 
your  reverence.  Do  you  read  the  Gazette? 
Later,  I  shall  start  to  the  southward,  for  rec 
reation,  and  to  study  politics." 

'Tis  a  nest  of  malcontents  gathered  to 
gether  over  there  in  that  town,"  said  the  Par 
son.  His  thin  lips  covered  set  teeth  as  he 
paused  in  his  speech.  "I  wonder  my  Lord 
Dunmore  does  not  string  some  of  them  up  for 
treason.  Sedition  is  wearing  too  bold  a  front  in 
the  Province  of  late.  Old  Sir  William  Berke 
ley  had  made  short  shift  of  them  with  their 
Gazettes  and  their  correspondences  and  fool- 


76  ROBIN  AROON 

ishness.  Let  them  remember  the  rebel  Bacon, 
and  Drummond  and  the  earlier  traitors." 

The  words  came  from  his  lips  with  a  suc 
cession  of  jerks  that  were  marked  by  the  beat 
of  his  horse's  hoofs  in  the  road.  Horse  and 
rider  were  not  unlike  in  other  respects  than 
that  they  both  were  hard-mouthed,  and  often 
champed  at  the  bit.  The  parson  was  a  tall, 
rawboned,  bullet-headed  Irishman,  with  a  fine 
Milesian  brogue  that  gave  an  edge  to  his 
talk.  He  seemed  to  be  some  forty  years  of 
age.  The  horse,  that  he  handled  with  the 
skilled  ease  of  a  veteran  rider,  was  also  raw- 
boned  and  bullet-headed.  He  was  some  six 
teen  hands  high,  and  his  trot  was  staccato,  as 
the  minister's  seat  in  the  saddle  was  erect. 

Henning  had  had  a  large  experience  of  the 
Irishman's  fierce  party  views.  No  company 
of  patriotic  Virginians  had  ever  daunted  him 
in  the  expression  of  his  hatred  for  a  political 
movement  that  threatened  the  church  estab 
lishment  upon  which  he  flourished.  His 
companion  sought  to  change  the  current  of 
the  talk. 

"Jotank  looks  in  fine  fettle  to-day,  Par 
son,"  said  Henning,  affecting  to  survey  the 


ROBIN  AROON  77 

sorrel  stallion  critically.  "You  should  enter 
him  in  the  next  Richmond  County  races." 

"I  have  offered  to  wager  Colonel  Tayloe 
£50  Virginia  money  that  this  horse  can  beat 
his  great  Yorick  in  a  two-mile  steeple-chase, 
he  and  I  to  ride,"  jerked  out  the  Parson  grim 
ly.  "But  Colonel  Tayloe  does  not  approve 
that  the  minister  of  the  parish  shall  ride  races 
in  public.  He  thinks,  doubtless,  that  it  may 
give  a  handle  to  some  of  the  Whig  Dissen 
ters." 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Heffernan  laughed 
harshly;  and  Henning  rode  on  in  silence. 

"It  seems  that  some  of  these  young  bur 
gesses  from  the  Western  wilderness  are  prat 
ing  louder  than  ever  about  their  taxation  with 
out  representation.  They  threaten  the  de 
struction  of  the  social  order;  they  are  full  of 
false  doctrine,  heresy  and  schism;  they — " 

They  had  come  to  a  gate  across  the  road; 
and  as  the  Parson  rode  forward  to  open  it, 
the  conclusion  of  his  speech  was  lost  to  his 
companion's  ears.  The  wide  swinging  gate 
closed  behind  Silas  with  a  bang;  and  Mr 
Heffernan,  resuming  his  position  on  Hen- 
ning's  right,  said: 


78  ROBIN  AROON 

"I  hear  that  your  sprightly  young  friend, 
Mistress  George  Turberville  of  Peckatone, 
whom  I  had  the  honor  of  meeting  some 
months  ago  at  Bushy  Park,  has  declared  war 
on  all  Richmond  County  gates." 

"Ah,  has  she?"  queried  Henning,  with  a 
show  of  interest,  and  relieved  at  the  Parson's 
abandonment  of  politics. 

"When  she  goes  abroad,"  the  latter  con 
tinued,  "I  learn  that  she  is  wont  to  arm  her 
outriders  with  axes.  Then  she  gives  them 
orders  to  smash  ever)7  gate  in  the  way  and  to 
remove  all  obstacles.  Colonel  Landon  Car 
ter  is  much  wrought  up  that  she  broke  down 
some  of  the  gates  on  the  Sabine  Hall  planta 
tion." 

"Colonel  Landon  has  a  testy  temper  when 
aroused,"  Henning  replied,  laughing.  "But 
for  his  courtesy  to  all  women,  he  might  hale 
the  lady  before  the  county  court." 

"I  admire  her  courage,"  said  Mr.  Hef- 
fernan.  "  'Twere  well  if  his  excellency 
might  turn  her  and  her  axe-bearers  loose 
among  yon  treason-praters  at  the  capital." 

"We  have  missed  you  at  Bushy  Park,  Par 
son,"  remarked  Robert,  ignoring  the  minis 
ter's  application  of  Mrs.  Turberville's  im- 


ROBIN  AROON  79 

patience  of  obstacles  to  the  political  situa 
tion.  "The  house  has  been  full  of  pretty 
girls,  who  have  pined  for  you  in  a  minuet. 
David's  violin  is  out  of  tune  when  he  cannot 
play  with  you;  and  Colonel  Selden  says  he 
hasn't  had  a  genuine  mint-julep  since  the  last 
one  you  made  for  him  at  the  Glebe." 

The  ghost  of  a  smile  flickered  over  the 
Parson's  saturnine  face. 

"Ah,  Robin,  aroon,"  he  answered,  "the 
youth  of  the  world  is  still  in  your  veins. 
Your  thought  ever  runs  on  wine,  woman  and 
song.  I'll  have  the  Colonel  over,  to  try  my 
new  recipe  for  a  julep — 

"  'This  cordial  julep   here, 
That  flames  and  dances  in  its  crystal  bounds.' 

"I'll  venture  to  assert  that  the  old  round 
head  poet  never  knew  anything  like  these 
green  drinks  we  brew  in  Virginia.  The  mint 
is  perfect  now,  and  I  have  a  cask  ot  old 
brandy  from  Lancaster." 

"They  say  at  the  Raleigh  Tavern,"  ans 
wered  Henning,  "that  it  is  a  current  word 
with  the  burgesses  from  the  westward  that 
wherever  the  mint  grows,  underneath  is 
buried  a  Virginian  of  the  River  Ways." 

Heffernan  chuckled. 


8o  ROBIN  AROON 

"Divulge  me  your  recipe,  Parson,"  con 
tinued  the  young  man. 

"Aha!"  said  the  minister,  "I  warrant  me 
that  the  schismatic  rogues  in  your  Raleigh 
Tavern  would  hail  it  with  more  acclaim  than 
a  letter  from  one  of  their  pestiferous  cor 
respondence  committees  in  Massachusetts  Bay 
or  Providence  Plantations,  wrhere  the  crop- 
eared  breed  of  rebels  does  most  abound." 

They  passed  through  another  plantation 
gate ;  and  saw  beyond  it,  where  the  road  from 
the  south  crossed  that  of  the  Dragon  Swamp, 
a  horseman  on  a  grey  nag,  who  appeared  to 
await  their  coming. 

"It  looks  like  John  Ree,"  said  the  Rever 
end  Mr.  Heffernan. 

"Dat  look  ter  me  lak  Mr,  Ball's  grey 
hoss,"  ventured  Silas  ruefully,  from  behind 
his  portmanteau. 

Both  surmises  proved  correct. 

"Hail,  Parson!  hail,  Robin!"  called 
Mr.  Ree  cheerfully,  as  they  approached. 

Silas  surveyed  the  heavens,  connecting 
Mr.  Ree's  classic  salutation  with  some  threat 
ened  change  in  the  weather. 

The  new  comer  was  dressed  in  black  super 
fine  broadcloth,  a  gold-laced  hat,  laced  ruffles, 


ROBIN  AROON  81 

and  black  silk  stockings,  all  of  which  looked 
somewhat  the  worse  for  wear,  and  quite  in 
appropriate  for  a  horseback  ride.  His 
flushed  face  and  disheveled  costume  contrast 
ed  strongly  with  the  correct  and  sober  dignity 
of  the  minister's  severely  dark  costume  and 
austere  demeanor. 

"You  are  out  early,  Mr.  Ree,"  said  Mr. 
Heffernan. 

Mr.  Ree  was  a  gentleman  from  beyond 
Fredericksburg.  His  plantation  lay  not  far 
from  where  Governor  Spotswood  founded  his 
iron  works  at  Germanna.  Mr.  Ree  pre 
ferred  the  festivities  of  the  River  region  to 
his  lonely  life  in  the  backwoods.  Where 
fore,  having  neither  chick  nor  child  to  look 
after,  and  possessing  a  highly  capable  and 
honest  overseer  upon  his  estate,  he  spent 
more  of  his  time  under  the  roof-trees  of  his 
many  friends  and  acquaintances  in  the  Rap- 
pahannock  Valley  than  under  his  own. 

David  Henning,  with  a  nimble  wit,  had 
characterized  Mr.  Ree,  on  the  occasion  of  a 
long  stay  of  his  at  Bushy  Park,  as  being  very 
similar  to  a  certain  character  depicted  in  the 
works  of  the  late  Mr.  Addison, 


82  ROBIN  AROON 

"He  stays,"  observed  David,  "eight  or  ten 
weeks  in  his  own  house  because  he  must,  and 
the  rest  of  the  year  with  his  friends  because 
he  can." 

"This  is  early  for  me,  Mr.  Heffernan," 
Mr.  Ree  now  said  to  the  minister  confiden 
tially,  "but  I  came  up  by  boat  from  Merry 
Point  yesterday,  and  lay  last  night  at  Ur- 
banna.  'Tis  a  most  pestiferous  and  immoral 
hole,  Parson.  There  I  fell  in  with  several 
young  bloods.  We  had  a  game  or  two  be 
fore  retiring,  which  lasted  to  the  small  hours. 
The  villainous  light  of  the  candles  hurt  my 
eyes,  and  so  I  am  out  this  morning  seeking 
fresh  air  and  eyesight." 

Parson  Heffernan  regarded  him  with  in 
terest. 

"Were  the  stakes  high,  Mr.  Ree?"  he 
queried. 

"That's  a  good  horse  of  yours,  Parson," 
replied  Ree  irrelevantly. 

Then  he  added: 

"The  stakes  were  not  so  high  as  yonder 
five-barred  gate.  I'll  ride  you  a  race  from 
here  thither  for  a  purse  of  ten  shillings,  the 
winner  to  take  the  gate  and  the  next  gate  by 
the  church  for  hurdles." 


ROBIN  AROON  83 

The  gate  to  which  Mr.  Ree  pointed  was 
visible  about  half  a  mile  away,  down  the  in 
tersecting  road. 

"Make  it  twenty,"  said  the  Parson  grimly, 
"and  I'll  ride  ye." 

Mr.  Ree  made  it  twenty;  and  the  two 
paused  in  the  road,  with  their  horse's  flanks 
close  together,  to  count  out  the  silver. 

"Hold  it,  Robert,"  said  Mr.  Ree. 

"I'm  going  to  Williamsburg,"  said  Hen- 
ning,  fobbing  the  money  unwillingly.  "Send 
me  word  to  Charlestown,  in  the  Province  of 
Carolina,  who  wins  the  race." 

They  did  not  heed  him.  Side  by  side,  and 
bridle  bit  to  bridle  bit  for  a  moment,  the 
grey  gelding  and  the  sorrel  paused. 

"Go!"  shouted  Henning;  and  down  the 
road  they  went,  the  Parson  sitting  bolt  up 
right,  and  riding  as  in  a  cavalry  charge,  and 
Ree  leaning  forward  over  the  neck  of  the 
grey. 

"Dar!"  ejaculated  Silas,  taking  a  tighter 
grip  upon  the  portmanteau,  and  watching  the 
flying  figures  with  starting  eyeballs.  "Dar! 
'fo'  Gord!  dey  done  off!" 

Henning  laughed  aloud  at  the  sight,  and 
waited  long  enough  to  see  the  minister  on 


84  ROBIN  AROON 

Jotank  clear  the  gate  a  little  in  advance  of 
Mr.  Ree.  Then  both  vanished  from  view 
beyond  the  grove  of  oaks,  out  of  which  rose 
the  red  brick  walls  of  the  Middle  Church. 

"Come  on,  Silas,"  said  Henning.  "The 
Parson's  crazy  and  Ree  is  an  ass.  We  are 
going  to  Williamsburg." 

And  in  the  light  of  the  shining  summer 
morning  they  rode  on  to  the  Dragon  Swamp 
Bridge. 


THE  SIXTH  CHAPTER 


It  was  on  a  moonlight  night  in  the  same 
month  of  May,  two  days  after  his  departure 
from  Bushy  Park,  that  Robert  Henning  es 
corted  westward  along  the  north  side  of  the 
Duke  of  Gloucester  Street  in  Williamsburg, 
from  the  theatre  near  the  capitol  at  its  east 
ern  end,  his  charming  young  cousin,  Miss 
Milicent  Hubbard.  She  was  a  vivacious  and 
spirited  damsel  of  seventeen,  whose  talk  left 
in  its  wake  the  rippling  foam  of  light  laugh 
ter. 

Some  of  the  young  Virginians  of  her  ac 
quaintance  thought  her,  though  of  perfect 
figure  otherwise,  a  trifle  too  long  of  limb. 
But  there  was  no  man  in  the  Colony,  young 
or  old,  who  could  look  from  above  or  on  the 
level  into  her  dark-lashed  violet  eyes  of  in 
nocence,  and  watch  the  coming  and  going  of 
the  dimples  about  her  small  red  mouth,  or 
note  the  blood  whose  ebb  and  flow  paled  and 


86  ROBIN  AROON 

crimsoned  the  oval  contour  of  her  fair  face, 
and  not  dream  dreams  and  see  visions. 

The  two  young  people  had  that  evening 
beheld  from  the  family  circle  King  Richard 
the  Third  and  Bosworth's  fated  field  present 
ed  to  the  most  fashionable  audience  in  Vir 
ginia  by  a  company  of  London  players;  and 
had  afterward  witnessed  a  tragic  dance  com 
posed  by  Monsieur  Denoir,  called  "The 
Royal  Captive,"  executed  with  charming 
grace  and  abandon  by  a  young  woman  of  no 
little  beauty  of  face  and  a  lavish  abundance 
of  snowy  draperies. 

The  breaking  up  of  the  audience  after  the 
close  of  the  tragic  dance,  whose  tragedy  had 
nevertheless  wrought  some  hardly  restrained 
explosions  of  mirth  among  the  younger  and 
giddier  of  the  assemblage,  had  presented  to 
Henning's  delighted  eyes  the  kaleidoscopic 
effect  of  unusual  and  brilliant  combinations 
in  form  and  color.  The  soft  light  of  wax 
candles,  reflected  from  brass  sconces  on  the 
walls,  illustrated  a  glowing  concourse  of 
patrician  men  and  women,  about  whom  hung 
the  indefinable  Old  World  atmosphere  of 
ruffles  and  brocades,  of  silk  stockings  and 
jeweled  buckles,  and  of  crimped  and  powder- 


ROBIN  AROON  87 

ed  hair.  There  had  been  something  almost 
startling  to  him,  in  his  charmed  and  contem 
plative  mood,  to  hear  the  usher  at  the  theatre 
door  call  the  chaises  and  chariots  of  these 
people,  whose  names  were  those  of  the  finest 
men  and  women  of  the  most  brilliant  period 
of  the  Colony. 

"Mr.  Harrison's  chariot  stops  the  way," 
intoned  the  monotonous  voice;  "Mr.  Bas- 
sett's;  Mr.  Wormeley's;  Mr.  Tayloe's  chaise 
is  waiting!" 

Thus  through  the  roll  of  the  barons  of 
York  and  Potomac,  of  Rappahannock  and 
James,  ran  the  announcements;  until  it  seem 
ed  that  there  were  few  of  the  grandees  of 
Virginia  who  had  not  on  that  night  beheld 
in  the  crowded  theatre  the  hunch-backed  king 
making  love  to  Lady  Anne,  and  later  bidding 
bind  up  his  wounds  of  battle. 

"Was  ever  woman  in  this  humor  wooed? 
Was  ever  woman  in  this  humor  won?" 

The  lines  sang  themselves  in  the  heart  of 
more  than  one  silken-clad  gallant  of  the  audi 
ence  when  the  curtain  had  fallen;  and  many 
a  young  brocaded  miss  repeated  in  her  after- 
dreams  that  night: 


88  ROBIN  AROON 

"Their  lips  were  four  red  roses  on  a  stalk." 

The  river-lords  of  vast  tobacco  fields  and 
innumerable  negro  slaves,  and  long  colonial 
pedigrees,  had  come  up  to  the  capital  from 
varying  distances,  fetching  their  wives  and 
daughters,  their  sons,  and  cousins  and  friends. 
The  Middle  Plantation  was  full  of  them. 

"Mr.  Berkeley's  chaise!  Mr.  Randolph's. 
Mr.  Stith's.  Mr.  Gary's.  Mr.  Conway's. 
Mr.  Ball's.  Mr.  Page's.  Mr.  Nelson's." 

The  opulent  and  sensuous  splendor  of  the 
scene,  the  charm  and  loveliness  of  the  women, 
the  lofty  bearing  of  the  men  kindled  strange 
fires  of  prophecy  in  Henning's  soul,  that  were 
still  burning  when  he  found  himself  silent 
after  a  five  minutes'  walk  from  the  theatre 
door  with  Milicent  on  his  arm. 

"The  abolition  of  primogeniture — for 
these?  The  destruction  of  the  established 
church — for  these?  The  emancipation  of 
the  slaves — for  these?  The  equality,  of  all 
men — the  soiling  touch  of  democracy,  for 
these  gay  aristocrats?" 

"Why  so  glum  and  melancholy,  Mr.  Hen- 
ning?"  queried  the  girl  mockingly.  "Did 


ROBIN  AROON  89 

the  tragic  dancer  fill  you  with  dismal  sor 
row?" 

He  smiled  down  at  her. 

"I  thought  the  dance  very  beautiful,  Mil- 
ly,"  he  answered.  "It  appealed  to  me  more 
than  did  the  play." 

"  'Tis  a  pity  we  did  not  have  our  chaise 
when  'twas  ended,"  she  observed,  pouting. 
"You  might  then  have  got  me  home  sooner, 
and  I  should  not  have  broken  in  on  your 
dreams  of  the  beautiful  dancing-girl." 

"Why,  what's  the  matter,  Milly?"  he 
asked,  surprised. 

"You're  so  cross,"  said  the  girl,  making 
a  provoking  grimace  of  her  small  red  mouth. 
Then  he  observed  that  she  was  carrying  upon 
her  left  arm  the  train  of  her  white  satin  skirt; 
and  he  reached  over  to  take  from  the  gloved 
hand  on  his  sleeve  her  jeweled  fan  of  white 
ostrich  plumes. 

She  pulled  the  fan  away  from  him. 

"Pardon  me,  Milly,"  he  said  humbly. 

"You  haven't  heard  a  word  that  I  have 
been  saying,  and  I  have  talked  to  you  since 
we  left  the  theatre  door,"  she  grumbled. 

"I  am  all  attention,"  he  said,  inclining  his 
head  toward  her. 


90  ROBIN  AROON 

"Mr.  Bassett  is  to  give  us  a  ball,"  she  chat 
tered,  her  countenance  returning  with  his 
apology.  "It  will  be  in  the  week  before  com 
mencement;  and  I  am  to  wear  a  new  rich 
gown  of  white  satin,  far  handsomer  than 
this,"  and  she  flirted  the  suspended  train  to 
ward  him  with  a  deft  movement  of  her  left 
hand. 

"I  shall  have  a  blue  scarf  over  my  shoul 
ders,"  she  rattled  on,  "falling  in  front  of  my 
dress.  My  slippers  will  be  of  blue  satin,  and 
I  have  the  sweetest  pair  of  blue  silk  stock 
ings." 

He  drew  a  quick  breath. 

"I  shall  wear  my  lovely  pearl  brooch  that 
father  imported  for  me  last  year  from  Lon 
don.  All  of  the  college  boys  will  be  there — 
Ben  Harrison  and  Jack  Nelson  and  Sam 
Cabell  and  Jimmie  Farley  and  Johnnie  Lewis, 
and  all  the  others.  And  don't  you  think, 
cousin  Robert,  that  Tom  Randolph's  heart — 
my  Tommy's — ought  to  be  entirely  broken 
when  he  takes  me  on  his  arm  that  night  at 
Bassett  Hall?" 

In  her  enthusiasm  over  the  picture  of  her 
self  which  her  imagination  conjured  up  as  in 
a  mental  mirror,  she  paused  in  her  walk  for 


ROBIN  AROON  91 

a  moment.  Then  dropping  her  satin  train 
and  her  plumed  fan  at  once,  she  clasped  both 
hands  over  the  blue  velvet  sleeve  of  Hen- 
ning's  coat,  and  gazed  up  into  his  face  with 
eyes  that  seemed  to  him,  in  the  moonlight,  to 
be  kindled  with  the  moon. 

Unskilled  in  the  artifices  of  this  young 
woman,  he  gallantly  bent  to  pick  up  her  fan. 
Milly,  delighted  with  the  success  of  the 
manoeuvre,  stooped  for  it  at  the  same  mom 
ent.  The  charming  result  of  this  simulta 
neous  stooping  was  that  his  face  and  hers 
came  so  close  together  he  could  feel  her 
breath  warm  on  his  cheek,  and  he  was  con 
scious  of  wondering  if  she  could  hear  how  his 
heart  was  beating. 

"That  was  an  achievement  successful  be 
yond  anticipation,"  the  girl  thought  delight 
edly.  "But  it  would  scarcely  be  advisable  to 
adventure  the  ruse  again  to-night.  It  might 
lose  its  charm  should  it  seem  premeditated." 

As  for  her  companion,  with  his  heart  still 
thumping  quicker  for  the  swift,  elusive  semi- 
contact,  he  wondered  that  Milicent  should 
have  improved  so  vastly  both  in  manners  and 
appearance  since  he  left  Williamsburg,  a 


92  ROBIN  AROON 

graduate  of  the  ancient  college,  but  a  year 
agone. 

"I  don't  know  what  will  happen  to  Tom 
Randolph's  heart  that  night,  Milly;  but  I 
know  what  will  happen  to  mine,  if  you  drop 
that  fan  again.  Your  Tommy  should  be 
what  our  Scotch  tutor  Greig  calls  'the  prood 
mon'  to  have  you  on  his  arm  and  in  his  heart 
at  once  in  such  a  company." 

"La,  cousin  Robert,"  the  girl  exclaimed, 
giving  a  backward  kickup  to  her  lost  train, 
and  deftly  catching  it  in  her  left  hand,  "that 
is  beautiful.  A  very  pretty  speech,  truly. 
Did  you  graduate  in  fine  speeches  from  the 
college,  when  the  President  and  Masters  last 
June  gave  you  those  parchments  of  Greek 
and  Latin  and  the  sciences?  They  should 
rather  have  crowned  you  with  a  wreath  of 
roses,  as  many  of  the  Williamsburg  girls 
would  gladly  have  done.  You  looked  so 
handsome,  standing  there  before  the  reverend 
seniors,  and  so  modest — and  so  far  away 
from  every  girl  in  town.  You  are  browner 
now  than  you  were  then,  Robert,  aren't  you?" 

She  looked  up  at  him  archly. 

"I  think  it  is  you,  fair  cousin,  who  deserve 


ROBIN  AROON  93 

the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Pretty  Words,"  he 
answered — "summa  cum  laude" 

"Not  I,  Mr.  Henning,  I  protest.  It  is 
yourself,  most  learned  scholar  in  the  school 
of  the  Middlesex  maids,  and  of  those  of  Lan 
caster.  Your  art  possesses  the  perfection 
that  comes  only  from  practice.  Much  study 
of  your  subject  has  made  you  vastly  profi 
cient." 

"The  ladies  of  Middlesex  are  pleasant  to 
look  upon  and  delightful  to  talk  to,  and  to 
ride  and  to  dance  and  to  drive  with,"  he  ans 
wered,  fencing  with  her.  "And  those  of 
Lancaster,  with  equal  charms,  possess  for  the 
Middlesex  lads  the  added  fascination  that 
Hero  had  for  Leander;  one  must  needs  pad 
dle  across  Rappahannock  to  take  lessons  in 
love  of  them.  But  they  all  fade  into  insigni 
ficance,  sweet  cousin,  in  comparison  with — " 

The  sentence  was  finished  in  the  sign  lan 
guage  of  youth.  The  girl  drew  a  deep 
breath  of  delight,  and  the  episode  of  fan  and 
train  was  very  near  an  involuntary  repeti 
tion. 

"Robert,"  she  murmured,  with  mingled 
rapture  and  regret,  "must  you  really  leave 
Williamsburg  to-morrow?  Can  not  you  be 


94  ROBIN  AROON 

persuaded  to  remain  a  week  longer — till  Mr. 
Bassett's  ball?  I  vow  to  you  that  if  you  wish 
it,  I'll  break  all  my  contracts  with  all  my 
lovers,  and  Tommy  Randolph  shall  never  get 
even  a  glimpse  of  even  a  toe  of  my  new  blue 
satin  ball-slippers  from  London." 

Then  she  sighed  softly,  and  said : 

"But  I  forgot  about  Betty  Berkeley.  All 
the  Province  knows  about  you  and  Betty." 

"Betty  Berkeley  and  I  have  parted  com 
pany,  Milly,"  he  said,  and  repeated  to  her 
what  he  had  said  to  his  mother.  "She  and 
I  have  never  loved  each  other,  you  know, 
except  as  far-off  cousins  and  near  neighbors 
— never  as  genuine  sweethearts." 

Miss  Milly  looked  up  at  him  with  a  glance 
that  was  an  intimation  of  how  "genuine 
sweethearts"  regarded  each  other.  Then  she 
was  silent  for  a  few  moments,  as  if  in  contem 
plation  of  love  in  all  its  significance.  The 
silence  was  broken  by  a  demure  observation, 
as  if  she  were  thinking  aloud: 

"But  father  says  that  near  cousins — 
cousins  german — should  not  marry;  and  that 
no  one  of  his  ten  fair  daughters  and  six  tall 
sons  shall  ever  wed  so  near." 

The  young  man  laughed  aloud,  to  follow 


ROBIN  AROON  95 

the  current  of  her  thought;  and  his  mirth  be 
spoke  his  flattered  vanity. 

"Nine  sisters-in-law,  all  beautiful,  and  six 
brothers-in-law,  all  stalwart.  How  charming, 
Milly!" 

"Did  you  ever  hear  in  any  other  country 
of  the  tremendous  families  that  the  gentle 
folk  have  in  Virginia,  Robert?  It  is  posi 
tively  discouraging.  Think  of  nine  girls  to 
be  married.  And  all  the  families  I  know  are 
as  large!" 

"You  are  the  finest  logician  in  the  Prov 
ince,"  chuckled  her  kinsman.  "Your  prem 
ise  or  your  conclusion  may  be  unspoken;  but 
the  sequence  of  your  logic  is  direct.  No 
pundit  in  the  faculty  can  excel  you.  You 
need  no  elaborate  processes  of  ratiocination 
to  arrive  at  incontrovertible  finalities  that 
are  plainly  inevitable.  You  can  hit  the  centre 
spot  of  the  target  with  both  eyes  shut." 

She  responded  to  his  laughter  with  laugh 
ter  of  her  own.  She  was  filled  with  a  keen 
zest  of  the  game  she  was  playing  with  him. 

"For  Heaven's  sake,  Robert!"  she  gur 
gled,  "don't  talk  to  me  in  such  great  words. 
You  will  make  me  forget  that  you  are  my 


96  ROBIN  AROON 

dearest  cousin  in  the  flush  of  your  gayest 
youth.  Shut  my  eyes?  Were  I  to  shut  my 
eyes,  I  might  imagine  myself  taking  this 
moonlight  stroll  with  Dr.  Small." 


THE  SEVENTH  CHAPTER 

OF  DANCING-GIRLS 

The  moonlight  lay  on  the  sward  of  the 
Court  green,  where  the  tiny  court-house  de 
signed  by  some  provincial  Sir  Christopher 
Wren  stood  with  its  quaint,  unsupported, 
projecting  portico-roof  fronting  the  long 
wide  street;  on  the  Raleigh  Tavern, 
forum  of  Colonial  politics;  on  the  Powder 
Horn ;  on  the  Bruton  Church  that  held  in  its 
heart  the  memories  of  all  the  grandees  who 
had  within  its  time  frequented  the  Middle 
Plantation;  on  the  tombs  of  marble  with 
armorial  bearings,  and  long  inscriptions  in 
labored  Latin,  proclaiming  the  "ingenua 
totius  corporis  pulchritudo" — the  unbought 
grace  of  life — of  the  dead  in  the  old  church 
yard  under  them;  on  the  Brafferton  building, 
named  for  the  lordly  manor  in  the  York  Rid 
ing  beyond  the  ocean ;  on  the  college  campus, 
with  its  president's  house  at  the  north  side, 
and  the  recently  erected  statue  of  the  royal 
7 


98  ROBIN  AROON 

governor  but  lately  dead,  which  looked 
with  unseeing  eyes  down  the  long  street  that 
he  had  so  often  traversed  in  the  flesh;  and 
on  the  noble  college  building  rising  two  and 
a  half  stories,  with  its  dormer  windows  shin 
ing  through  the  unstirred  trees. 

Robert  Henning  and  Milicent  had  come  to 
a  point  in  the  street  where  Henning  involun 
tarily  paused. 

"Did  you  ever  see  anything  like  that?"  he 
asked.  "It  is  a  strange  distraction  of  the 
senses;  or  else  I  am  moon-mad?  Since  what 
time  has  a  stream  of  running  water  flowed 
along  any  street  of  the  city  of  Williams- 
burg?" 

The  moonlight  was  very  bright;  and  the 
shadow  of  a  large  tree  by  the  side  of  the  way, 
falling  across  their  path,  mingled  with  the 
moon's  magic  to  make  an  unmistakable  sim 
ilitude  of  moving  water  in  the  sandy  road. 

The  girl  laughed,  and  dragged  him  for 
ward. 

"Come  on!  Let's  wade!"  she  cried. 
"La !  do  you  know  Nancy  Carter,  now  of 
Westmoreland? — a  slip  of  thing  who  lived 
here  at  Williamsburg  up  to  two  years  ago. 
Had  she  been  grown,  'twould  have  been  un- 


ROBIN  AROON  99 

pardonable.  Yet  in  spite  of  her  size,  she  re 
lies  on  her  fifteen  years  to  carry  off  many  of 
her  pranks." 

Henning  interpolated  into  this  breathless 
chatter  the  statement  that  he  had  the  honor 
of  Miss  Carter's  friendly  acquaintance;  add 
ing  that  she  had  been  a  guest,  with  her  broth 
er  John,  at  Bushy  Park,  a  short  time  before; 
and  that  indeed  she  was  a  distant  relative  of 
his,  and  that  he  thought  her  bewitching. 

"Oh,  every  one  who  is  any  one  in  Virginia 
is  a  relative  of  every  one  else  who  is  any  one 
in  the  Province,"  said  Milly,  in  a  breath, 
emerging  with  her  companion  dry  shod  and 
joyous,  though  with  a  slight  unconscious  lift 
ing  of  the  train  which  she  carried,  on  the  fur 
ther  side  of  the  illusory  stream.  "Nancy 
was  here  again  last  August;  and  walking 
this  way  on  such  a  night  as  this  with  one  of 
the  beaux  of  the  town.  It  is  strange  to  me 
how  grown  men  should  care  to  dangle  after 
a  young  chit  like  Nancy  Carter." 

Miss  Hubbard  paused  in  her  talk  to  plume 
herself  in  thought  upon  the  superiority  of  her 
own  seventeen  years. 

"No,  I  shan't  tell  names  and  tales  togeth- 


ioo  ROBIN  AROON 

er,"  she  went  on.  "But  he  was  no  greenling 
student — " 

"Like  Tommy  Randolph?"  asked  Hen- 
ning  maliciously. 

She  paid  no  attention  to  his  interruption, 
but  continued. 

"Well,  Miss  Nancv  arrives  at  this  fairy 
streamlet.  She  vows  it  to  be  as  genuine  wa 
ter  as  any  in  Nomini  Creek;  and  that  she 
will  wade  through  it, — being  fond  of  wading 
in  Westmoreland, — but  at  no  risk  of  wetting 
her  dainty  attire.  So  down  she  sits  over 
there,  takes  off  her  shoes  and  stockings,  and 
giving  her  skirts  a  toss,  forthwith  proceeds 
over.  Her  beau  told  Mrs.  Pasteur,  and  the 
news  of  it  was  soon  all  over  the  town.  But 
he  said  it  was  a  witching  sight;  and  all  the 
men  lauorhed,  and  forgave  it  in  Nancv." 

Henning  capped  Millv's  story  of  Nancy 
Carter  with  a  narration  of  the  episode  of  the 
clipped  eyebrows,  suggesting  discursively 
that  his  brother  David  had  been  deeply  smit 
ten  of  Nancv's  witcheries. 

Something  in  the  mere  mention  of  David's 
love-making  seemed  to  stir  again  the  well- 
springs  of  the  girl's  sentiment.  Beyond  the 
moonshine  water  she  paused  in  the  bright 


ROBIN  AROON  101 

light  before  a  long,  one-storied  house,  pro 
jecting  upon  the  street.  Over  its  doorway 
was  a  fan-shaped  window,  and  the  door  itself 
was  approached  by  three  broad  stone-steps, 
leading  from  the  three  sides  to  the  stone- 
flagged  platform  at  the  threshold. 

"I  never  pass  this  house  after  nightfall," 
she  said,  "without  recalling  the  dead  gover 
nor,  who  has  always  seemed  to  me  the  fair 
est  figure  of  romance  and  Old  World  chiv 
alry  in  or  out  of  the  pages  of  all  the  story 
books." 

She  breathed  a  long-drawn  sigh,  and 
added : 

"I  knew  him  when  I  was  but  a  tiny  little 
girl,  and  I  love  his  beautiful  memory  as  a 
woman." 

"Ah,  yes,"  said  Henning.  "Norborne 
Berkeley,  Baron  de  Botetourt.  These  are  the 
steps  where  he  found  the  young  women  sit 
ting,  upon  a  moonlight  night  like  this,  twang 
ing  their  guitar-strings;  and  here  he  stopped 
to  join  them  in  their  gay  love-songs,  and  to 
give  their  unknown  and  unsyllabled  names  to 
history." 

"He  possessed  all  things  that  befit  ro 
mance,"  the  girl  went  on  devoutly — "beauty, 


102  ROBIN  AROON 

wealth,  distinction,  power.  Strange  how  all 
that  is  left  of  them  is  a  handful  of  dust  hid 
den  over  yonder  beneath  the  Chapel  floor." 

"They  were  beautiful  things  to  have, 
Milly — these  that  he  owned,"  her  com 
panion  answered,  falling  sympathetically  in 
with  her  mood.  "But  leaving  them  at  his 
exit,  there  lingered  after  him  something  that 
was  less  mutable  and  far  more  lovely." 

She  looked  up  at  him,  with  the  tenderness 
of  infinite  regret  in  her  eyes;  and  he  con 
tinued. 

"After  the  two  all  too  brief  years  of  his 
kindly  sway  in  Virginia,  this  peer  of  Great 
Britain  bequeathed  to  his  people  of  this 
Province,  high  and  low,  upon  his  untimely 
death  a  more  fragrant  memory  of  sweet  be 
neficence  than  all  of  the  other  royal  gover 
nors  who  have  ruled  in  the  Colony." 

"This  is  entirely  too  serious,  cousin  Rob 
in,"  said  Millicent.  "Dead  men's  bones  and 
fame  and  fragrant  memories !  You  haven't 
yet  answered  my  question.  Must  you  truly 
go  away  to-morrow,  when  you  have  only  just 
arrived?" 

"Milly,"  he  said,  half-jestingly,  but  with 
a  touch  of  tenderness  in  his  voice  which  she 


ROBIN  AROON  103 

was  swift  to  interpret,  "don't  tempt  me,  dear, 
in  this  light  that  flings  a  glamour  of  unreality 
about  everything.  Don't  make  me  decide  now 
between  a  strong  inclination  and  an  uncertain 
sense  of  duty.  Wait  until  the  morn's  morn, 
most  beauteous  lady,  and  I'll  e'en  tell  you. 
I  must  buy  me  a  pair  of  horses  to-morrow 
for  my  further  journey;  and  so  I  shall  not 
in  any  event  depart  until  that  important 
transaction  be  concluded." 

"A  pair  of  horses!"  she  cried.  "Go  and 
buy  your  old  horses,  Mr.  Henning.  Make 
a  moonlight  bargain,  and  leave  before  the 
dawn  breaks.  I  hate  you  I" 

She  caught  up  her  skirts,  and  swinging 
open  a  gate  on  the  street,  dashed  through  it 
and  up  the  steps  of  a  brightly  lighted  house. 
Henning,  startled  by  her  sudden  change  of 
humor,  pursued  her.  But  she  was  too  swift 
for  him;  though  the  impeding  fan  slipped 
from  the  fingers  of  the  hand  that  still  grasped 
her  skirts,  and  fell  at  the  foot  of  the  steps. 
He  stooped  to  pick  it  up,  and  before  he  was 
half  way  to  the  top  of  the  stairway  she  had 
opened  the  door,  and  passing  through  had 
slammed  it. 

He  tried  the  knob.     She  had  locked  him 


104  ROBIN  AROON 

out.  He  banged  with  the  satyr-faced  brass 
knocker  until  the  alarum  caused  night-capped 
heads  to  pop  from  windows  in  the  distance; 
while  a  hoarse  voice  called  from  a  house 
across  the  wide  street: 

"For  God's  sake,  stop  that  racket,  you 
damned  devil;  and  let  decent  folk  sleep!" 

Disconsolately,  though  half  amused,  Hen- 
ning  started  at  last  to  leave;  and  before 
reaching  the  gate  he  beheld  his  shadow 
stretching  gatewards  from  the  light  of  the  re 
opened  door  behind  him.  Turning,  he  saw 
Miss  Milly  Hubbard  standing  above  him  in 
the  doorway  he  had  just  left.  She  was  blow 
ing  swift  kisses  to  him  from  the  tips  of  her 
pretty  fingers. 

"Good-night,  cousin  Robin !  Beautiful 
dreams!"  she  called,  between  the  wafted 
caresses.  "When  you  return  from  Carolina, 
pray  come  by  way  of  Williamsburg.  I  shall 
die  to  see  your  new  horses  on  their  way 
home!" 

He  retraced  his  steps,  to  behold  the  door 
close  again  and  the  vision  vanish;  and  one 
after  another  the  lights  in  the  house  went  out. 

He  returned  to  his  room  at  the  Raleigh 
Tavern  with  a  plumed  fan  in  his  hand,  that 


ROBIN  AROON  105 

had  in  its  softness  some  vague,  almost  imper 
ceptible  odor,  which  associated  itself  in  his 
imagination  only  with  Milly.  He  put  the 
fan  on  the  dresser;  and  then,  moved  by  an 
indefinable  impulse,  laid  it  under  his  pillow. 

When  he  had  climbed  into  the  high-posted 
bed  he  sought  to  compose  himself  to  repose; 
but  slumber  for  a  time  avoided  him. 

What  an  utterly  inconsistent  girl  was  this 
Milly !  How  rank  was  her  outlawry,  and 
how  charming  her  face — and  her  figure — 
and  her  eyes — and  her  ways — and — 

He  lapsed  at  last  into  creeping  drowsiness, 
and  met  the  images  of  sleep.  He  dreamed 
dreams  of  the  dancing  girl  at  the  theatre, 
who  seemed  for  his  subconsciousness  to  pos 
sess  Milly's  countenance  in  repose,  and 
Milly's  round  lithe  figure,  and  Milly's  grace 
ful  length  of  leg,  and  Milly's  winning  ways. 

He  dreamed  of  the  dancing-girl,  and  of 
her  witchery  and  her  charm — the  type,  in  her 
tender  movement,  of  all  the  dancers  of  his 
toric  tragedy  that  have  flaunted  silken  dra 
peries  and  flashed  alluring  limbs  before  the 
jaded  eyes  of  kings  and  conquerors;  sinuous 
similitude  of  every  frail,  fair  dancer  that 
ever  danced  to  the  melodious  music  of  im- 


106  ROBIN  AROON 

perial  instruments,  while  cities  flamed  heaven 
ward;  semblance  of  all  dancing-girls  that 
have  lightened  the  spent  hearts  of  sol 
diers  and  seers  and  statesmen ;  dancers  of  the 
world,  weaving  beauty's  witching  spell  with 
beauty's  magic  motion  about  the  lulled  senses 
of  the  sombre  centuries;  the  dancing-girls 
of  the  fair  forms  and  the  radiant  faces,  who, 
though  prophets  perish  and  cities  crumble, 
shall  yet  dance  down  the  ages  until  time  shall 
end,  soothing  the  souls  that  are  outworn  with 
the  weariness  of  life. 


THE  SECOND  PART 
LOVE'S   ENCHANTMENT 


THE  FIRST  CHAPTER 

AN  OFFER  OF   MARRIAGE 

The  roses  of  early  summer  were  bloom 
ing  throughout  the  old  colonial  town  of 
Halifax,  on  the  bank  of  the  Roanoke  River 
in  Eastern  Carolina.  The  air  was  vibrant 
with  the  murmur  of  harvesting  bees.  A  ra 
diant-winged  humming-bird  flashed  and  quiv 
ered  in  the  woodbine  that  blossomed  over  the 
long  veranda  of  the  gabled  brick  house.  The 
sunlight  was  reflected  from  the  polished 
brass  knocker  of  its  front  door,  and  flickered 
among  the  faintly  rustling  green  leaves  of 
the  magnolias  in  the  yard.  A  breeze  from 
the  river  entered  the  hearts  of  the  high  box 
hedges,  which  on  either  side  shaded  the  sand- 
walk  leading  from  the  mansion  to  the  gate. 
The  penetrating  freshness  of  the  morning 
pervaded  house  and  garden,  street  and  town. 

A  negro  man,  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  knelt 
near  the  fence,  trimming  with  a  sickle  the 
grass,  over  which  the  shadows  of  the  trees 
were  dancing.  A  noise  in  the  street  attracted 


no  ROBIN  AROON 

his  attention.  Lifting  his  head,  he  saw  two 
handsome  bay  horses,  high  bred  and  clean  of 
limb,  following  past  the  gate  with  spirited 
step  the  lead  of  an  old  and  withered  man  of 
his  own  race. 

"Dat's  a  furrin  nigger,"  he  said,  while  he 
critically  surveyed  the  horses  and  their 
groom.  "I  ain't  nuvver  seed  him  'bout  here 
afo'.  Looks  like  he  tho't  a  mighty  heap  o' 
hisse'f.  I  wonder  who  dem  hosses  b'longs 
ter,  nohow.  Ef  Miss'  Judy  was  ter  see  'em, 
dey'd  p'intly  set  her  crazy.  Hi !  mon,  whose 
nags  is  dem  dar?" 

The  old  man,  apparently  purposely  hard 
of  hearing,  continued  on  his  way  in  silence, 
without  looking  either  to  the  right  or  left. 

"Say,  nigger!"  called  his  interlocutor  in  a 
louder  tone,  "doncher  hear  me?  Whose  is 
dem  dar  hosses,  I  axed  ye?" 

"You  'ten'  ter  yo'  bizness,  an'  I  gwi'  'ten' 
ter  mine,"  was  the  tart  reply-  "I  ain't  got 
no  time  fur  ter  be  a-swoppin'  lies  wid  evvy 
sassy  sarb'n'  I  comes  acrost  in  Norf  C'liner." 

"Uh-huh!"  ejaculated  the  native  with  an 
inimitable  accent  of  contempt.  "I  knowed 
ye  soon's  I  sot  my  eyes  on  ter  ye.  Quality 


ROBIN  AROON  in 

niggers  is  got  better  manners  'n  you's  got. 
You  b'longs  ter  an  oberseer." 

At  this  stage  of  the  colloquy  a  voice  called 
from  an  upper  window  of  the  house: 

"Boy." 

It  was  not  a  loud  voice,  yet  the  word  was 
so  clearly  enunciated  that  the  old  man 
straightway  checked  his  horses  and  looked 
up. 

"Yes,  marm.  Sarb'n',  mistis,"  he  said, 
and  doffed  his  cap  to  the  speaker,  and  shuf 
fled  his  infirm  feet  in  the  tawny  sands  of  the 
street,  and  bowed  low.  His  adversary  of  the 
sickle,  glad  of  an  excuse  to  pause  from  his 
labors,  soliloquized: 

"Dar  ain't  nary  'nother  sich  a  pyar  in  Hal 
ifax  Bur',  'scusin'  o'  dat  ole  po'  white-trash 
vilyun  dat's  a-leadin'  on  'em.  Mars'  Gil- 
christ's  sor'ls  can't  tetch  'em  wid  a  forty-foot 
pole." 

"Whose  horses  are  those?"  queried  the 
young  woman  at  the  window. 

"Dese  here?  Dese  here  b'longs  ter  my 
young  marster,  marm." 

"Who  is  your  young  master?" 

"My  young  marster?  He's  Mars'  Rob 
ert  Hennin',  f'om  Bushy  Park,  County  o' 


ii2  ROBIN  AROON 

Middlesex,  Tidewater  in  Ferginyer,  on  de 
Rap'hannock  Riber — my  ole  marster  dat's 
dead  and  gone's  oldest  son." 

"Where  is  he?" 

"He's  ter  de  tavvun,  young  mistis." 

"What's  he  doing  in  Halifax?" 

"What's  he  a-doin'?  He  ain't  a-doin' 
nothin'.  He's  jes  a-trabbelin'  fur  his  pledger, 
marm ;  dat's  all.  De  Hennin's,  dey  don't 
have  ter  do  nothin',  young  mistis;  dat  dey 
don't,  de  Hennin's  don't!" 

"Well,  you  go  back  to  the  tavern,  and  tell 
Mr.  Robert  Henning,  of  Tidewater  in  Vir 
ginia,  that  I'll  marry  him  for  those  horses." 

The  pupils  of  the  old  man's  eyes  went  into 
eclipse,  leaving  visible  only  their  bilious 
whites.  A  laugh  proceeded  from  his  cavern 
ous  mouth,  which  was  echoed  by  his  late  ad 
versary  in  the  yard  through  very  sympathy. 

"Dat  'ar  ole  nigger  dunno  Miss  Judy," 
commented  the  latter  with  a  chuckle. 

"Marry  him  fur  dese  here  bosses?  De 
Lord!  An'  what  mought  yo'  name  be, 
honey?" 

"Now,  jes'  lissen,  will  ye!"  muttered  the 
grass-cutter,  his  amusement  giving  place  to 
indignation.  "He's  a-makin'  o'  hisse'f 


ROBIN  AROON  113 

mons'ous  familious-like,  a-callin'  o'  marster's 
Miss  Judy  'honey'  !" 

"My  name's  Judith  Montfort,"  said  the 
girl.  "Maybe  your  master  has  heard  of  me." 

"I  dunno,  mistis,"  the  old  man  answered. 
"But  I  'spec'  ef  he  had,  he'd  'a'  done  been 
here  'fo'  now.  My  marster  he  thinks  a  heap 
o'  dese  yer  bosses.  He  gin  a  pile  o'  money 
fur  'em  at  Williamsbu'g;  but  I  lay,  when 
he  sets  dem  eyes  o'  his'n  on  ter  you,  he  gwi' 
want  ter  make  de  trade.  Yes,  Lord!  an' 
give  ye  boot,  if  ye  ax  him." 

She  laughed  aloud  in  her  turn  in  tribute  to 
his  flattery,  and  lingered  at  the  window  until 
he  had  disappeared,  leading  the  horses  down 
between  the  rows  of  trees  that  shaded  the 
level  street.  The  man  in  the  yard  resumed 
his  work. 

"Umph!  'fo'  Gord!"  he  said,  "I  done 
knowed  she  was  'bleest  fur  ter  have  'em. 
Mars'  Gilchris  an'  all  his  Roanoke  lo' 
groun's  ain't  wuth  shucks  ter  Miss  Judy 
'longside'n  a  purty  boss." 

"Jasper!" 

"Yas,  Miss  Judy." 

"Go  up  to  the  tavern,  and  find  out  all  you 
8 


n4  ROBIN  AROON 

can  about  Mr.  Henning.  Don't  let  anybody 
know,  Jasper." 

"Naw,  Miss  Judy." 

He  laid  down  the  sickle  in  the  grass,  and 
started  to  get  his  jacket  from  the  cedar-bush 
near  by,  saying  to  himself: 

aDat  gal  jes'  as  wile  as  one  o'  dese  yer 
maypop  vines  dat  runs  all  over  de  face  o'  de 
Lord's  yarth.  What  she  want  me  ter  go  up 
dar  ter  de  tavvun  fur,  a-seekin'  roun'  arter 
dat  strange  man?  Ole  marster  ketch  me  up 
dar,  an'  ax  me  how  de  debble  come  I  ain't 
a-cuttin'  dis  here  grass? — den  what? 
Um-umph !  Miss  Judy  gwi'  git  me  an'  her 
bofe  in  tribberlation  some  o'  dese  here  days, 
wid  all  her  carryin's-on.  She  'pear  like  she 
boun'  fur  ter  have  all  de  young  mens  arter 
her,  dem  dat  lives  here  an'  dem  dat  don't — 
whether  dey  comes  f'om  Tidewater  ur  Salt 
Water.  Whether  dey's  Mister  Hennin'  ur 
Cap'n  Paul,  dey's  all  fish  dat  gits  in  her  net. 
An'  she  gethers  'em  in,  too,  mon.  She's  a 
fisher  o'  men,  like  de  Good  Book  tells  about. 
Looks  like  dey  all  think  she's  jes'  as  sweet 
as  a  Roanoke  River  paw-paw." 

Then  once  more  Jasper  heard  the  tramp 
of  horses'  hoofs  along  the  quiet  street.  The 


ROBIN  AROON  115 

sound  reached  Miss  Judith's  ear  at  the  same 
moment;  for  she  opened  further  one  of  the 
window-shutters  of  her  chamber,  and  peeped 
out  cautiously.  Jasper  had  nearly  reached 
the  gate. 

"Jasper!" 

"Mann." 

"You  need  not  go  now." 

"Naw,  marm." 

Jasper's  reply  to  his  mistress  was  made 
aloud.  His  expressive  comment  under  his 
breath  was,  "Ah-yi !" 

Having  donned  his  jacket,  however,  he 
continued  on  his  way  to  the  gate;  and,  wait 
ing  there  with  his  head  uncovered,  took  the 
bridle-rein  from  the  hands  of  the  gentleman 
who  dismounted  at  the  block. 

"Good  morning,  Jasper,"  said  the  new 
comer  suavely. 

"Mornin',  Mars'  Gilchris',"  answered 
Jasper. 

"Is   Miss  Judith  within?" 

"She  was  up  dar  at  dat  upsta'rs  winder, 
jes'  one  minnit  back,  sah,"  he  said.  "I  'spec' 
ef  ye  had  speered  up,  ye  mought  ha'  seed  her, 
afo'  ye  got  ter  de  hoss-block." 


u6  ROBIN  AROON 

The  window  shutters  were  thrown  wide 
open. 

"Miss  Judith  wishes  you  good-morning, 
sir,"  she  said. 

Mr.  Gilchrist,  lifting  his  cocked  hat, 
looked  up  and  saw  her  in  a  white  summer 
gown  of  some  diaphanous  stuff,  through 
which  faint  outlines  of  a  rounded  neck  and 
arms  were  visible.  A  somewhat  complacent 
expression  settled  upon  his  saturnine  face. 
Booted  and  spurred,  he  strode  up  the  walk 
with  military  mien,  and  entered  the  shady 
veranda. 

"I  will  meet  you  half  way — at  the  door," 
the  girl  called  to  him  with  a  nod  and  a 
smile;  and  vanished  from  the  window.  She 
would  have  blown  him  a  kiss  had  he  been 
twenty  years  younger. 

"I  wish  she  would  not  meet  folk  half 
way — even  me,"  thought  Mr.  Gilchrist. 

He  was  beyond  the  midday  of  life,  a  tall, 
dark,  serious  man,  very  erect  and  stalwart. 
Thick,  iron-gray  hair  covered  his  well-shaped 
head,  and  ended  in  a  queue  that  hung  over  his 
embroidered  coat-collar.  He  had  a  smoothly 
shaven  and  swarthy  face,  and  black  eyes  of 
piercing  brilliancy.  His  person  and  bearing 


ROBIN  AROON  117 

alike  indicated  that  he  was  a  character  of 
note. 

"Father  has  gone  down  the  street,  Mr. 
Gilchrist,"  the  girl  said,  as,  with  a  flutter  of 
white  drapery,  she  opened  the  door  to  him. 
She  laid  her  slim  little  hand  in  his  so  frankly 
that  he  was  fain  to  detain  it  for  a  brief, 
charmed  moment.  He  replied  to  her  saluta 
tion  with  the  ghost  of  a  smile  on  his  thin 
lips. 

"I  called  this  morning  to  pay  my  respects 
to  the  daughter,  if  she  will  condescend  to  ac 
cept  them,  and  at  the  same  time  deign  to  ex 
cuse  the  costume,  which  the  distance  I  have 
been  compelled  to  travel  has  necessitated.  I 
am  sojourning  this  week  at  my  plantation, 
and  rode  up  to-day." 

She  glanced  at  the  top-boots,  on  which  no 
speck  was  visible;  and  observed  that  the  lace 
at  his  wrists  and  on  his  shirt-front  was  im 
maculate. 

"You  do  me  a  thousand  honors" ;  and  she 
half-mockingly  dropped  him  a  curtsy,  catch 
ing  her  skirt  with  her  left  hand,  and  waving 
the  disengaged  hand  toward  him.  "And 
your  costume?  Why,  it  is  perfect.  With  an 


n8  ROBIN  AROON 

exchange  of  the  boots  for  dancing-pumps, 
you  are  equipped  for  an  assembly  ball." 

A  light  shadow  of  annoyance  crossed  Mr. 
Gilchrist's  fine  face.  His  strict  sense  of  pro 
priety  always  suffered  a  shock  at  whatever 
bore  the  semblance  of  a  jest;  and  he  was 
especially  prone  to  regard  the  levity,  of  which 
he  was  an  object,  with  severe  disapprobation. 

"The  deference  due  you  would  have  sug 
gested  a  more  appropriate  attire,"  he  per 
sisted,  "but  circumstances  forbade." 

"Let  us  sit  on  the  veranda,  and  forget  cir 
cumstances,"  she  said.  "It  is  cooler  here." 

She  fluttered  before  him  to  a  bench  beneath 
the  vine,  where  the  humming-bird  was  still 
whirring.  Intent  upon  yet  further  apologies, 
he  said  as  he  seated  himself: 

"One  of  my  coach-horses  went  lame  yester 
day,  and  so  I  was  forced  to  ride." 

"I  am  truly  sorry.  Was  it  King  George?" 
she  asked,  looking  up  at  him  with  serious 
face. 

"No,  the  mare." 

"Speaking  of  horses,  I  saw  a  most  beauti 
ful  span  of  bays  pass  the  gate  just  before 
you  came,"  she  said.  "They  belong  to  a 
Mr.  Henning." 


ROBIN  AROON  119 

"Mr.  Henning?  I  have  not  the  honor  of 
his  acquaintance.  I  think  I  have  heard  Mr. 
Harnett  say  that  it  is  thought  a  good  name  in 
Virginia.  Does  he  hail  from  that  Colony?" 

"He  is  a  Virginian,  and  his  horses  are  su 
perb." 

She  spoke  with  enthusiasm,  clasping  her 
hands  as  if  to  emphasize  her  praise. 

"I  sent  him  a  message  concerning  them," 
she  continued. 

"When  did  you  meet  him?"  he  asked  cu 
riously. 

The  smile  of  expectance  on  her  lips 
bloomed  into  a  laugh. 

"Like  yourself,  I  have  not  the  honor  of 
his  acquaintance,"  she  said. 

Mr.  Gilchrist's  sense  of  propriety  sus 
tained  a  severe  shock. 

"And  you  sent  a  message  to  an  unknown 
young  man,  unpresented,  and  as  far  as  you 
know,  unaccredited?" 

"Doesn't  Mr.  Harnett  think  the  name  a 
good  one  in  Virginia?"  she  asked  naively. 

"Pray,  may  I  be  allowed  to  inquire  with 
what  message  you  honored  this  stranger?" 

"If  you  will  not  scold,"  she  replied,  lifting 
a  little  white  hand  toward  his  lips, — a  flag 


120  ROBIN  AROON 

of  truce  which  a  younger  warrior  would  have 
captured  and  carried  into  camp, — "I  sent 
him  word  that  I  would  marry  him  for  his 
horses !" 

"By  heavens!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Gilchrist, 
starting  up.  "Is  this  to  go  on  forever?" 

There  was  a  fierce  scowl  on  his  brow ;  and 
in  his  wrath  he  smote  his  booted  leg  savagely 
with  his  riding-whip.  The  color  fled  for  a 
moment  from  young  Miss  Judith's  cheeks.  It 
had  been  so  long  since  she  had  seen  him  in  an 
angry  mood  that  she  had  half-forgotten  what 
a  forbidding  aspect  his  anger  gave  him. 

She  laid  her  hand  upon  his  sleeve  and  said: 

"You  should  not  be  vexed  with  me  for  an 
idle  jest." 

He  was  silent. 

"Forgive  me,"  she  went  on,  "and  I'll  make 
amends  at  the  Assembly  Ball." 

Not  trusting  himself  to  reply,  he  arose  and 
bowed  gravely;  then  turning,  walked  away 
between  the  shining  lines  of  box-hedges  to 
the  gate.  For  a  little  moment  Miss  Judith 
Montfort  forgot  the  glory  of  the  June  morn 
ing  and  the  beauty  of  life. 

Jasper,  standing  in  the  shade  of  the  pop 
lar  on  the  edge  of  the  street,  in  charge  of 


ROBIN  AROON  121 

Mr.  Gilchrist's  horse,  took  off  his  hat  as  he 
approached.  The  negro's  palm  was  itching 
for  the  accustomed  shilling;  but,  to  his  sur 
prise,  it  was  not  forthcoming.  Mr.  Gil 
christ's  brow  was  knitted,  and  darkness 
clouded  his  countenance.  As  if  unconscious 
of  Jasper's  presence,  he  mechanically  took 
the  proffered  bridle-rein  and  the  negro  heard 
him  say,  "Captain  Paul  or  Mr.  Henning. 
She  would  coquette  with  her  grandfather." 

Then  he  mounted,  and  rode  away;  and 
Jasper  commented  to  himself: 

"Dar!  What  I  tole  ye?  He  done  cotched 
up  wid  her!" 


THE  SECOND  CHAPTER 
"CON  EXPRESSIONS" 

Later  in  the  same  day  on  which  the  girl 
in  the  white,  diaphanous  summer  dress  was 
kindling  the  wrath  of  her  elderly  visitor  at 
the  brick  house  with  the  green  box  hedges,  a 
discussion  of  her  between  the  young  man, 
whose  name  Mr.  Gilchrist  had  coupled  with 
Henning's,  and  a  handsome  matron,  was  pro 
ceeding  in  the  morning  parlor  of  The  Grove, 
on  Quanky  Creek,  about  a  mile  away  to  the 
west  of  the  town. 

The  man  was  apparently  about  twenty-five 
or  six  years  of  age.  He  seemed  of  a  me 
dium  height,  and  his  figure  was  slight  and 
in  the  highest  degree  graceful.  His  bearing 
was  that  of  a  person  of  consequence,  whose 
associations  had  been  with  men  and  women 
of  refinement  and  high  breeding.  He  had  a 
straight  nose,  and  the  square  jaw  indicative 
of  the  fighting  man.  His  complexion  was 
swarthy,  with  the  tinge  that  comes  from  long 
experience  on  the  sea,  and  that  is  sometimes 


ROBIN  AROON  123 

called  "weather-beaten" ;  his  eyes  were  large 
and  dark,  and  at  times  wore  an  expression 
which  the  young  women  of  his  acquaintance 
regarded  as  deeply  romantic.  Some  of  them 
were  wont  to  say  that  this  expression  indi 
cated  more  than  his  lips  were  ever  known  to 
speak.  He  was  dressed  in  the  latest  fashion 
of  the  day,  and  in  perfect  taste,  though  with 
a  general  effect  that  to  older  eyes  would  seem 
to  illustrate  a  love  of  the  spectacular.  His 
suit  was  of  lavender  silk,  and  the  waistcoat 
of  it  was  embroidered  with  silver.  Lace 
ruffles  adorned  his  neck  and  wristbands.  His 
silk  stockings  were  partridge  colored;  and 
he  wore  silver  buckles  at  his  knees  and  on  his 
shoes.  His  chapeau  bras  lay  on  a  small 
Sheraton  table  near  him  in  the  bay  window, 
which  was  said  to  be  the  first  window  of  its 
kind  ever  built  in  the  southern  colonies. 
Above  his  head  hung  a  portrait  of  a  clean 
shaven  man  in  a  peruke  and  crimson  velvet 
coat;  and  on  the  gold  frame  of  the  picture 
was  engraven  a  crest  of  a  unicorn  rampant, 
with  a  Latin  motto.  It  was  the  portrait  and 
crest  of  the  colonial  founder  of  the  family 
that  had  long  owned  The  Grove,  who  had 
been  in  his  youth  an  officer  in  the  Brish  navy. 


i24  ROBIN  AROON 

"Madam,"  said  the  young  man  to  the  lady 
in  a  softly  modulated  voice  of  peculiar  sweet 
ness,  "she  is  an  incorrigible  coquette.  Any 
man  would  be  a  fool  who  would  disclose  his 
devotion  to  her,  before  first  deeply  interesting 
her.  I  beg,  however,  to  have  you  remember," 
he  continued  apologetically,  "that  the  words 
which  I  speak  are  uttered  in  the  sacred  pri 
vacy  of  this  presence.  I  should  not  have  said 
them,  save  for  your  frank  questioning,  which 
I  have  sought  to  answer  frankly.  I  may  add 
that  I  have  had  the  good  fortune  to  know 
many  ladies  of  quality;  and  with  my  powers 
of  observation  sharpened  as  they  have  been 
by  experience,  I  do  not  acquit  myself  of  all 
knowledge  of  the  fair  sex." 

He  spoke  with  grave  earnestness,  and  the 
words,  which  coming  from  another  might 
have  seemed  boastful,  carried  with  them  no 
suggestion  of  vanity  to  the  minds  of  his  audi 
tors." 

"You  do  her  injustice,  I  am  sure,  Captain 
Paul,"  said  the  lady  to  whom  he  addressed 
his  speech,  smiling  in  a  conciliatory  fashion 
as  she  spoke.  She  was  the  mistress  of  the 
mansion,  and  held  in  her  lap  a  small  red 
morocco-covered  account  book,  which  she 


ROBIN  AROON         .  .   125 

had  just  been  examining.  A  little  negro- 
girl,  dressed  in  a  blue  checked  cotton  gown, 
and  with  a  nappy  head  neatly  wrapped  in 
many  tiny  pigtails  that  were  wound  about 
with  white  cotton  strings,  sat  on  a  stool  at 
her  feet;  and  gazing  up  at  her  with  a  stare 
of  sleepy  attention,  fanned  her  slowly  with 
a  huge  turkey-wing  fan. 

"Judith  is  fond  of  fun,  I  warrant  you," 
continued  Mrs.  Jones;  "but  I  must  affirm 
that  it  does  not  run  in  the  Montfort  blood 
for  the  women  of  the  name  to  be  wantonly 
cruel.  I  appeal  to  Mr.  Jones,  who  has  had 
experience  with  at  least  one  Montfort  wo 
man." 

She  smiled  across  the  room  at  her  husband, 
a  man  of  middle  age,  whose  expressive  face 
was  lit  up  by  piercing  dark  eyes,  and  indi 
vidualized  by  a  finely  formed  forehead,  a 
firm  decided  mouth,  and  a  chin  of  character 
and  purpose.  Educated  at  Eton,  the  nursery 
of  the  gentlemen  of  England,  he  was  already 
one  of  the  foremost  men  in  the  Carolina  col 
ony  and  destined  to  play  a  highly  conspicuous 
part-  in  the  great  drama  then  impending.  He 
was  smoking,  in  her  presence,  by  his  wife's 
permission,  which  he  never  failed  first  to  ob- 


126  ROBIN  AROON 

tain  from  her,  a  corn-cob  pipe  with  a  reed- 
stem  of  such  length  that  it  was  impossible  for 
the  smoker  of  it  at  once  to  hold  the  stem  of 
the  pipe  in  his  mouth  and  reach  the  bowl  of 
it  with  his  fingers.  Wherefore  a  young  ne 
gro  man,  his  back  flattened  against  the  wall, 
stood  near  him,  in  order  to  replenish  the  pipe 
with  tobacco  when  empty,  and  to  fetch  the 
hot  coal  from  the  kitchen  to  relight  it  when 
it  should  go  out 

"I  crave  your  pardon,  Mistress  Jones,  and 
yours,  Mr.  Jones,  if  I  have  blundered,"  said 
Captain  Paul.  He  spoke  with  a  suave  indif 
ference  that  betokened  no  embarrassment,  and 
that  won  the  admiration  of  the  man  of  the 
world  whom  he  addressed. 

"The  Earl  of  Selkirk  himself,  in  his 
drawing-room  at  Saint  Mary's  Isle,  could  not 
carry  it  off  better,"  thought  Mr.  Jones. 

"I  was  not  aware  that  you  were  a  Mont- 
fort  before  marriage,  madam,"  Paul  con 
tinued;  "though  I  did  know  that  the  young 
ladv  was  your  relative.  However,  that  can 
be  neither  here  nor  there,  for  you  invited  my 
opinion." 

"Tt  is  of  no  consequence,  Captain  Paul," 
said  Mr.  Jones  good-naturedly.  "We  are  all 


ROBIN  AROON  127 

kinsfolk  in  Halifax.  The  place  is  full  of 
Joneses  and  Montforts  and  Davies  and 
Greens  and  Sitgreaves  and  Polks  and  Stiths 
and  Daniels,  who  are  intermarried  and  re 
lated.  If  relationship  debarred  our  discus 
sion  of  each  other's  merits  or  demerits,  the 
women  of  the  community  would  all  of  neces 
sity  be  dumb." 

"I  speak  of  Miss  Montfort  in  a  disinter 
ested  way,"  said  Captain  Paul.  "I  may  say 
that  I  have  sometimes  fancied  it  possible  that 
I  might  fall  in  love  with  some  fair  one;  and 
she  is  such  a  one  as  might  well  charm  me,  were 
my  passion  not  always  servant  to  my  judg 
ment.  But  I  opine  that  my  wooing  would  be 
a  stormy  one,  of  such  a  fashion  haply  as 
boarding  a  ship,  cutlass  in  hand.  I  value 
too  much  the  privilege  I  enjoy  of  your  friend 
ship  and  hospitality,  madam,  and  yours,  Mr. 
Jones,  to  run  the  risk  of  being  driven  from 
that  deck,  repulsed  with  an  ardor  no  whit 
less  than  my  own.  So  I  still  cling  to  the 
one  mistress  to  whom  my  profession  has  at 
tached  me;  and  if  I  mistake  not,  the  time 
is  not  far  off  when  I  may  have  the  oppor 
tunity  of  putting  my  devotion  to  her  to  the 
proof." 


128  ROBIN  AROON 

Mrs.  Jones  looked  at  him  inquiringly. 

"Van,  fetch  me  a  fresh  coal,"  said  Mr. 
Jones  to  the  negro  servant.  "This  tobacco 
seems  damp." 

The  little  girl,  with  the  turkey-wing  fan, 
nodded  in  the  balmy  softness  of  the  summer 
morning,  and  caught  herself  as  she  was  about 
to  fall  from  her  seat. 

'Tis  my  ambition,  madam,  that  I  adore," 
said  Captain  Paul  in  response  to  Mrs.  Jones's 
look  of  interrogation.  "She  is  my  beautiful 
mistress.  My  thoughts  of  her  might  never 
be  translated  into  the  rude  verses  that  I  have 
penned  at  times  to  the  young  women  whom 
I  have  known.  My  swrord  sleeps  in  its  scab 
bard  until  some  happv  season  comes  when  I 
may  draw  it  in  her  high  honor." 

Mr.  Jones  was  listening  attentively,  while 
Van  relit  the  extinguished  pipe. 

"By  all  that  I  have  learned,"  continued 
the  young  man,  "from  Mr.  Jones  and  his 
brother,  and  from  Mr.  Hewes  and  Mr.  Ire- 
dell,  and  others  whom  I  have  met  here  and 
in  Edenton,  and  at  Fredericksburg  in  the 
Province  of  Virginia,  I  foresee  the  coming 
storm  of  revolution." 

He  paused  a  moment,   as  though  in  con- 


ROBIN  AROON  129 

temptation;  and  the  silence  in  the  room  was 
only  broken  by  the  minute  explosions  of  Mr. 
Jones's  lips  as  he  emitted  his  smoke-clouds, 
until  Captain  Paul  resumed. 

"I  am  a  North  Briton,  madam;  but 
America  has  been  the  country  of  my  fond 
election  since,  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  I  sailed 
out  of  Whitehaven  harbor  in  The  Friendship, 
Captain  Benson,  that  cast  anchor  for  the 
first  time  on  that  unforgotten  voyage,  in  Vir 
ginia  waters,  in  the  Rappahannock  River  of 
that  colony,  near  the  port-of-entry  town  of 
Urbanna." 

The  smoke  wreaths  were  now  curling 
about  Mr.  Jones's  head  where  he  sat  listen 
ing;  and  his  wife  was  all  gracious  attention 
to  their  guest,  who  continued  his  monologue. 

"In  the  time  that  I  have  spent  here,  ma 
dam,  the  pure  and  gentle  influences  that  are 
your  accompaniment  have  deeply  touched 
me.  I  have  promised  myself  the  privilege  of 
telling  you  yet  more  of  my  story  than  I  have 
already  done;  and  the  expression  of  my  as 
piration  but  now  some  day  to  fight  for 
America  assures  me  that  Mr.  Jones  will  hear 
it  with  an  indulgence  as  kind  as  your  own." 
9 


i3o  ROBIN  AROON 

He  bowed  in  the  direction  of  his  host,  who 
nodded  affably,  and  said: 

"I  heard  your  narrative  on  yesterday  with 
interest  and  pleasure,  Captain  Paul.  It  en 
tertained  me  vastly;  and  I  pray  you,  there 
fore,  go  on." 

"I  had  come  to  my  last  instalment,"  said 
Captain  Paul,  sitting  even  more  erect  than 
formerly,  if  that  were  possible,  and  fixing 
Mrs.  Jones  with  the  melancholy  of  his  dark 
eyes,  "to  that  unfortunate  affair  of  Maxwell 
at  Tobago.  It  seemed  the  tragic  culmination 
of  my  troubles,  that  had  begun  with  the  re 
grettable  business  of  my  earlier  occupation. 
The  man's  death  in  the  Indies  was  imputed 
to  me  by  my  enemies.  I  was  deeply  annoyed ; 
and  the  apprehension  that  my  relatives  at 
home  might  think  evil  of  me,  prompted  me 
to  take  active  steps  to  defend  my  reputation. 
But  the  affidavits  of  the  most  trustworthy  are 
valueless  against  calumny.  It  has  been  my 
fortune  to  accumulate  something  of  what  the 
Scotch  call  'gear'  in  the  trade  and  since;  but 
I  swear,  madam,  by  all  that  I  reverence,  that 
I  would  gladly  see  myself  a  pauper  to  be  rid 
of  that  foul  aspersion." 

"Your  friends  in  Carolina,  Captain  Paul, 


ROBIN  AROON  131 

have  every  confidence  in  your  integrity  of 
character,"  interposed  Mrs.  Jones.  "We  do 
not  doubt  that  it  is  so  with  all  who  know 
you,  and  whose  esteem  you  value.  Pray  do 
not  afflict  yourself  with  the  further  narrative 
of  what  may  be  unpleasant  in  the  recollec 
tion." 

He  smiled  at  her  with  his  luminous  eyes. 

"On  the  heels  of  this  disaster  I  was  taken 
with  a  tropical  fever;  and  for  a  period  I  im 
agined  my  career  was  at  an  end.  But  later 
I  obtained,  in  the  spring  of  last  year,  the  in 
dependent  command  of  the  Betsey  out  of 
London  to  the  West  Indies.  Again  at  To 
bago  a  tragedy  of  my  life  befel  me.  In  Oc- 
tobeV  I  was  preparing  to  take  the  Betsey 
back  to  London,  and  found  myself  forced  to 
recruit  the  crew.  They  were  riotous  and  des 
perate  men.  In  the  enforcement  of  discipline 
one  of  them  became  rebellious  and  attacked 
me  with  a  bludgeon.  I  had  no  wish  for  fur 
ther  trouble,  after  Maxwell's  case ;  but  I  was 
forced  to  defend  myself,  and  I  slew  him.  I 
went  to  a  magistrate  of  the  place,  and  offered 
to  surrender  myself.  He  knew  the  temper 
of  my  recruited  crew,  and  advised  me  to 


i32  ROBIN  AROON 

leave  the  island;  and  I  came  in  a  ship  then 
sailing  to  Edenton." 

He  paused  in  his  narrative,  and  the  mel 
ancholy  of  his  eyes  deepened. 

"It  is  no  small  comfort  to  me,  madam," 
he  concluded,  "to  have  found  in  this  haven  of 
peace  a  solace  and  a  refuge  from  my  afflic 
tions.  I  bless  the  day  when  I  sailed  into 
your  Carolina  port,  and  formed  the  friend 
ship  of  Mr.  Hewes,  who  so  kindly  brought 
me  hither." 

"I  surmise  that  we  shall  see  Mr.  Hewes 
again  soon,"  said  Mrs.  Jones,  with  the  gen 
erous  purpose  of  interrupting  the  young 
Scotchman's  flow  of  gloomy  thoughts,  "for 
I  hear  that  Isabel  Johnstone  arrived  in  Hali 
fax  yesterday,  and  is  visiting  Judith." 

"Ah,"  sighed  Captain  Paul,  with  a  touch 
of  sentiment,  "I  begrudge  them  the  charm 
of  young  dreams  and  youthful  passion  in  its 
blossoming." 

"Speak  of  angels,"  said  Mr.  Jones,  arising 
at  the  sound  of  wheels  on  the  gravel  road 
way  outside,  and  looking  out  of  the  bay 
window,  "and  we  hear  the  whisper  of  their 
wings.  There  is  Judith  Montfort  now  come 
in  the  chair,  and  Isabel  Johnstone  with  her." 


ROBIN  AROON  133 

"It  is  vastly  kind  of  Isabel,"  said  Mrs. 
Jones,  "to  call  so  informally." 

"There  is  nothing  formal  for  those  who 
keep  pace  with  Judith,"  remarked  Mr. 
Jones,  going  out  to  greet  the  two  young  la 
dies.  They  had  stopped  in  their  pleasure- 
drive  down  the  Quanky  road  to  pay  a  brief 
midday  call  on  Mrs.  Jones. 

Judith  came  in  breathless,  with  her  friend 
following.  Mr.  Jones  sent  Van  out  to  tie 
the  horse,  and  the  long-stemmed  pipe  for  the 
nonce  was  laid  aside.  After  the  greetings 
and  a  flutter  of  apparent  surprise  on  the  part 
of  Miss  Judith,  which  seemed  as  artless  as 
it  was  charming,  at  the  apparition  of  Captain 
Paul,  she  said  to  Mrs.  Jones: 

"Oh,  cousin  Mary,  the  most  beautiful 
span  of  horses  passed  the  house  this  morning, 
and  I  have  had  a  quarrel  with  Mr.  Gilchrist 
about  them." 

Captain  Paul's  face  had  lost  its  quality  of 
sadness.  There  was  a  light  in  his  dark  eyes 
which  seemed  to  glow  with  radiance  at  the 
sight  ot  the  girl's  beauty. 

"And  they  belong  to  a  most  interesting 
young  Virginian,  cousin  Wiley,"  she  said  to 


i34  ROBIN  AROON 

Mr.  Jones,  who  beamed  with  contagious 
pleasure  at  her  enthusiasm. 

"His  name  is  Mr.  Robert  Henning — I 
think  he  is  Colonel  Henning,"  she  rattled  on. 

"All  prominent  Virginians  are  colonels," 
interjected  Captain  Paul,  in  confirmation. 

"And  he  lives  at  Bushy  Park,  in  the 
County  of  Middlesex,  in  the  Colony  of  Vir 
ginia,  on  the  Rappahannock  River,  in  Tide 
water." 

"Miss  Montfort  has  clearly  been  studying 
a  chart,  showing  the  locality  of  the  Virgin 
ian's  home,  Mrs.  Jones,"  observed  Captain 
Paul  softly. 

"There  is  a  place  called  Churchill  on  Jef 
ferson  and  Fry's  map  of  Virginia  in  father's 
library,"  the  girl  said.  "I  am  sure  it  must 
be  his  place,  Captain  Paul." 

"I  vow  that  she  has  searched  for  it  most 
diligently,  Captain  Paul,"  said  Miss  Isabel 
Johnstone. 

"And  he  is  traveling  for  pleasure,  and  he 
is  very  wealthy,  and  very  handsome,  and  very 
aristocratic ;  and  he  is  now  at  the  Silver  Swan 
Tavern;  and,  cousin  Wiley,  I  do  hope  that 
you  will  call  on  him,  and  persuade  him  to 
remain  to  the  Assembly  Ball." 


ROBIN  AROON  13$ 

"There  is  a  horse-trade  in  prospect,  Mr. 
Jones,"  said  Miss  Johnstone  with  a  signifi 
cant  smile,  "which  I  think  will  keep  Mr. 
Henning  in  Halifax  for  at  least  a  day  or 
two." 

"I  protest,  Judith,  you  have  acquired  a 
vast  store  of  information  about  this  Mr. 
Henning.  From  whom  have  you  learned  it 
all,  my  dear?"  queried  Mrs.  Jones. 

"Mr.  Gilchrist  knew  about  him,  cousin 
Mary,"  said  Judith.  "We  quarreled  about 
the  horses." 

"Lovers'  quarrels  are  love's  renewals,  says 
the  Latin  poet,"  observed  Mr.  Jones,  reach 
ing  out  a  hand  for  his  pipe.  "Some  more  to 
bacco,  Van;  and  a  coal." 

"Ah,  about  the  horses!  I  see,"  said  Mrs. 
Jones. 

"Do  you  really  see,  madam?"  asked  Cap 
tain  Paul  blandly;  and  his  hostess  laughed. 

"What  do  you  mean,  Captain  Paul?" 
queried  Judith  uncertainly.  Then  she  added, 
"Do  you  know  anything  of  Mr.  Henning?" 

"I  have  never  seen  him,"  answered  the 
Scotchman,  "but  I  know  of  him  by  repute. 
All  that  you  have  said  of  him,  Miss  Mont- 
fort,  is  doubtless  true.  He  is  one  of  the  most 


136  ROBIN  AROON 

notable  young  men  of  the  Virginia  Rappa- 
hannock  Valley." 

"Tell  me  about  him,"  she  said  eagerly. 

"I  have  naught  else  to  tell,"  he  answered, 
"save  that  I  have  more  than  once  passed  up 
the  river  by  Bushy  Park;  and  that  I  have 
counted  lights  burning  at  once  in  thirty  win 
dows  of  that  mansion.  Mr.  Henning  is  one 
of  the  greatest  of  the  Virginia  river  barons." 

Then  Captain  Paul  turned  to  Miss  Isabel 
Johnstone,  and  said: 

"I  trust  that  my  respected  friend,  Mr. 
Joseph  Hewes,  was  well  when  you  left  Eden- 
ton?" 

The  girl  blushed,  and  answered: 

"When  I  last  saw  him,  which  was  some 
days  ago,  he  had  in  contemplation  an  early 
visit  to  his  brother,  Mr.  Josiah  Hewes,  in 
Philadelphia." 

"I  hope  that  we  may  see  him  in  Halifax 
first,"  observed  Mr.  Jones;  and  Mrs.  Jones 
added  archly,  looking  at  Miss  Johnstone: 

"I  am  sure  we  shall,  Isabel." 

"Oh,  Captain  Paul,"  broke  in  Miss  Mont- 
fort,  "before  we  go,  I  wish  Isabel  to  hear 
you  sing.  Here  is  the  spinet  ready  to  hand, 
and  I  will  make  the  music." 


ROBIN  AROON  137 

He  bowed  low  in  courtly  acknowledgment 
of  the  compliment,  and  said: 

"When  you  shall  have  first  honored  us, 
Miss  Montfort." 

Then  he  took  her  hand,  and  led  her  across 
the  shining  floor  to  the  instrument. 

Van  had  replenished  the  long-stemmed 
pipe,  and  Mr.  Jones,  after  requesting  per 
mission  of  the  ladies,  again  smoked  content 
edly. 

"Shall  mine  be  something  Scotch?"  she 
queried,  looking  up  at  Captain  Paul  with  a 
light  in  her  eyes  that  to  one  less  sophisticated 
would  "have  betokened  an  unusual  interest. 
"It  is  the  new  song,  'Robin  Adair,'  lately 
over  from  London,"  she  said,  adjusting  her 
skirts  to  the  spinet-chair. 

"I  know  the  air,"  he  replied.  "I  have 
heard  it  in  the  Irish  ports." 

Mrs.  Jones,  seated  where  she  could  watch 
the  girl's  face,  was  amused  to  see  in  the  pretty 
picture  that  they  made  a  verification  of  Cap 
tain  Paul's  charge  of  coquetry. 

"They  look  well  together,"  suggested  Isa 
bel  Johnstone  to  Mrs.  Jones,  near  whom  she 
sat.  "It  is  almost  like  a  play  to  see  them." 

There  was  an  arch  smile  on  Judith's  face 


138  ROBIN  AROON 

as  she   glanced  up  at  the  young  man,   and 
sang: 

"  'Welcome  on  shore  again, 

Robin  Adair! 
Welcome  once  more  again, 

Robin  Adair! 
I  feel  thy  trembling  hand, 
Tears  in  thine  eyes  do  stand, 
To  greet  thy  native  land, 

Robin  Adair.' " 

With  the  air  of  the  perfect  courtier,  who 
picks  up  the  gauntlet  which  an  adversary  has 
flung  at  his  feet,  the  Scotchman  accepted  the 
implied  challenge  of  demeanor  and  song. 

"If  you  will  kindly  continue  to  play  the 
air,  Miss  Montfort,  we  may  make  it  a  duet." 

She  looked  at  him  now  in  undisguised  sur 
prise,  as  her  hands  went  over  the  keys.  His 
eyes  were  fixed  on  hers,  and  there  was  a 
subtle  suggestion  of  defiance  in  the  words, 
which  he  sang  in  a  clear  tenor  voice,  and  with 
great  expression: 

"  'I  know  a  valley  fair, 

Aileen  aroon ! 
I  know  a  cottage  there, 

Aileen  aroon ! 
Far  in  that  valley's  shade, 
I  know  a  gentle  maid, 
Flower  of  the  hazel  glade, 

Aileen  aroon !'  " 


ROBIN  AROON  139 

The  words  were  new  to  her.  The  wonder 
grew  in  her  face. 

"Shall  I  go  on?"  she  whispered,  with  the 
color  mounting  high  on  her  cheeks. 

"If  you  please,"  he  answered. 

And  she  sang: 

"  'Long  I  ne'er  saw  thee,  love, 

Robin  Adair! 
Still  I  prayed  for  thee,  love, 

Robin  Adair! 

When  thou  wert  far  at  sea, 
Many  made  love  to  me; 
But  still  I  thought  on  thee, 

Robin  Adair!'" 

But  the  smile  had  disappeared  from  her 
eyes,  and  she  gazed  at  him  with  heaving  bo 
som  and  parted  lips,  as  she  played,  while  he 
sang  in  answer: 

"  'Who  in  the  song  so  sweet  ? 

Aileen  aroon! 
Who  in  the  dance  so  fleet? 

Aileen  aroon! 

Dear  are  her  charms  to  me, 
Dearer  her  laughter  free, 
Dearer  her  constancy, 

Aileen  aroon!' " 

A  light  began  to  dawn  on  her.  This  dar 
ing  young  adventurer  was  seeking  to  read  her 
a  lesson  in  coquetry — her,  the  unquestioned 


140  ROBIN  AROON 

beauty  and  belle  of  the  gilded  youth  of  Caro 
lina. 

Her  courage  was  as  fine  as  his.  With  an 
air  of  defiance,  and  with  the  smile  returned 
to  her  winning  face,  she  wove  about  him  the 
tender  spell  of  her  sweet  soprano  singing: 

"  'Come  to  my  heart  again, 

Robin  Adair! 
Never  to  part  again, 

Robin  Adair! 
And  if  thou  still  art  true, 
I  will  be  constant,  too, 
And  will  wed  none  but  you, 

Robin  Adair!"' 

She  had  reached  the  end  of  her  tether; 
but  with  a  courage  that  was  the  more  daring 
for  her  uncertainty  of  what  was  coming,  she 
played  on,  giving  him  the  last  innings.  Per 
haps  it  was  the  instinctive  curiosity  of  woman 
that  prompted  her — perhaps,  that  other 
primal  instinct  of  the  sex  to  hope  that  the 
other  sex  may  prove  aggressive  and  victor 
ious.  Her  eyes  smiled  up  at  him  still.  His 
had  the  dark  sternness  of  some  grim  warrior 
in  the  set  cut  and  thrust  of  deadly  peril. 

"  'Youth  must  with  time  decay, 

Aileen  aroon ! 
Beauty  must  fade  away, 
Aileen  aroon! 


ROBIN  AROON  141 

Castles  are  sacked  in  war, 
Chieftains  are  scattered  far, 
Truth  is  a  fixed  star, 

Aileen  aroon!' " 

She  arose  from  the  spinet,  as  he  bowed 
low,  and  murmured  his  thanks  for  the  honor 
she  had  done  him. 

"Come,  Isabel,  dear,"  she  said.  "We  must 
go,  cousin  Mary.  I  never  heard  you  in  bet 
ter  voice,  Captain  Paul;  and  the  new  words 
are  beautiful.  Good-bye  to  all  of  you." 

She  fluttered  out  of  the  room,  with  Miss 
Johnstone  and  Captain  Paul  following  her. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha !"  laughed  Mr.  Jones.  "Van, 
fetch  me  a  fresh  coal!" 


THE  THIRD  CHAPTER 

POUNDS  STERLING  FOR  A  PAIR 

Mr.  Gilchrist  drew  rein  at  the  door  of  the 
Silver  Swan.  He  was  a  frequent  and  hon 
ored  guest  at  the  tavern;  and  half  a  dozen 
or  more  negro  "boys"  of  all  ages  stepped 
forward  promptly  to  hold  his  stirrup,  im 
pelled  by  the  knowledge  of  how  the  magnate 
recognized  such  offices. 

"Is  Mr.  Henning  of  Virginia  here?"  he 
queried  of  the  rotund  landlord,  who,  clad  in 
brown  stuff  jerkin,  knee  breeches  and  high 
woolen  hose,  was  sitting  on  the  tavern's 
stoop,  surrounded  by  his  several  cronies, 
puffing  his  clay  pipe,  which  he  replenished 
at  intervals  from  a  "poke"  of  bright  Vir 
ginia  tobacco  in  his  capacious  flap-pocket. 

Mr.  Gilchrist  was  informed  that  Mr. 
Henning  was  at  that  moment  in  his  private 
apartment,  having  given  orders  for  his  coach 
to  be  at  the  door  in  thirty  minutes  for  a  drive 
beyond  Quanky  Creek. 

"Pray  inform  him  that  I  have  done  myself 


ROBIN  AROON  143 

the  honor  to  call  for  the  purpose  of  paying 
my  respects,"  said  the  visitor,  as  he  was 
ushered  into  the  public  room  by  the  landlord. 

The  great  man  seated  himself  in  one  of 
the  hard  wooden  chairs  that  stood  about  on 
the  sanded  floor  of  the  sparsely  furnished 
apartment;  and  having  laid  his  cocked  hat 
on  a  table  near  at  hand,  and  crossed  his  legs, 
stared  at  the  fly-specked  print  of  King 
George  the  Third  above  the  chimney  place, 
and  awaited  Mr.  Henning's  coming. 

It  was  not  long  before  he  saw  standing 
in  the  door-way  a  tall,  blonde  young  man, 
with  blue  eyes,  a  frank  countenance,  and  a 
pleasant  smile.  The  stranger  was  dressed  in 
the  height  of  rashion.  His  stock  was  of  the 
finest,  his  knee-breeches  fitted  his  muscular 
legs  to  a  nicety,  his  stockings  were  of  spun 
silk,  and  he  wore  on  his  low  shoes  large  and 
shining  silver  buckles.  He  bore  himself  with 
an  air  of  marked  distinction;  and  Mr.  Gil- 
christ  was,  in  spite  of  himself,  favorably  im 
pressed  with  his  appearance. 

Mr.  Henning  expressed  his  pleasure  at 
becoming  acquainted  with  his  visitor;  and 
the  landlord  looked  on  with  cheerful  ap 
proval  from  the  threshold  of  the  open  door. 


144  ROBIN  AROON 

After  the  exchange  of  mutual  compliments, 
Mr.  Gilchrist  said: 

"I  learn  that  you  are  on  the  point  of  going 
for  a  drive.  Pray  do  not  suffer  me  to  detain 
you." 

The  Virginian  replied  that  there  was  an 
abundance  of  time  with  half  of  the  uay  yet 
before  him. 

Then  his  visitor  asked : 

"Would  you  be  willing  to  part  with  your 
horses?" 

The  question  seemed  somewhat  abrupt  to 
the  stranger,  and  his  reply  was  curt. 

"My  horses  are  not  for  sale." 

Mr.  Gilchrist,  however,  took  no  offense; 
but  continued  with  unusual  suavity: 

"I  am  a  great  admirer  of  horse-flesh.  I 
care  nothing  for  the  excitement  of  the  race 
course,  but  keep  a  handsome  stud  for  the 
sake  of  the  brutes  themselves.  I  possess 
some  fine  stock  of  my  own  raising  down  at 
my  plantation  near  here,  which  I  should  be 
pleased  to  show  you." 

Mr.  Henning  expressed  his  gratification 
somewhat  stiffly.  His  visitor  once  more  indi 
cated  a  strong  desire  to  possess  the  young  Vir 
ginian's  horses,  even  at  a  high  figure. 


ROBIN  AROON  145 

"I  do  not  know  that  I  care  to  part  with 
them,"  Mr.  Henning  said  hesitatingly.  Then 
he  added,  with  some  curiosity : 

"When  and  where  did  you  see  them?" 

To  a  man  of  Mr.  Gilchrist's  straightfor 
wardness  the  question  was  an  embarrassing 
one.  He  cast  his  looks  to  the  floor,  and  stam 
mered: 

"I — I — that  is  to  say — I  am  forced  to 
confess  that  I  have  never  seen  them." 

"Ah?"  said  Mr.  Henning  interrogatively. 

"I  only  know  them  through  what  I  have 
heard,"  explained  the  would-be  purchaser, 
with  a  visible  air  of  hesitancy. 

"Why,  that  is  singular,"  commented  the 
stranger.  "I  have  owned  these  horses  but  a 
sennight;  and  I  reached  this  town  on  my  way 
from  Virginia  only  last  evening.  I  had  no 
idea  they  were  of  such  fame." 

"I  can  readily  understand  that  my  desire 
seems  peculiar  to  you,"  said  Mr.  Gilchrist, 
recovering  in  a  measure  his  composure.  "I 
regret  that  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  make  expla 
nation  of  it." 

"It  is  of  no  consequence,"  replied  the  Vir 
ginian;  and  his  visitor  seemed  nettled. 

10 


146  ROBIN  AROON 

"I  will  giv7e  you  one  hundred  pounds  for 
the  span,  sterling  money,"  urged  Mr.  Gil- 
christ. 

"That  is  a  high  offer,"  was  the  reply; 
"they  stand  me  at  fifty  pounds." 

The  landlord  had  grown  deeply  interested 
at  this  turn  of  the  interview.  As  the  conver 
sation  progressed,  he  advanced  into  the  room 
until  he  stood  within  a  few  feet  of  where  the 
two  men  sat. 

Mr.  Henning,  after  a  moment  of  silence, 
asked: 

"Could  I  secure  another  pair  hereabouts 
to  take  me  on  my  way  in  the  event  that  I  con 
sented  to  dispose  of  them  to  you?  My  stay 
here  is  necessarily  short.  I  only  remain  to 
the  Assembly  Ball." 

"You  may  have  the  best  team  on  my  plan 
tation  at  your  own  price,"  his  visitor  re 
sponded. 

The  excited  landlord  blew  a  cloud  of  smoke 
into  the  face  of  the  Virginian,  and  shouted : 

"Take  him  up,  Squire  Hennin',  take  him 
up !  His  nags  are  the  staunchest  and  the  best 
in  Halifax  Bur'." 

"I  should  be  very  much  honored,  if  you 
would  accompany  me  to  my  house,  and  make 


ROBIN  AROON  147 

your  own  selection.  It  would  please  me  no 
less  to  have  you  become  my  guest  while  you 
remain  in  this  vicinity." 

The  host  of  the  Silver  Swan  was  scarcely 
less  surprised  than  was  Mr.  Henning. 

"Squire  Gilchrist  has  lost  his  head,"  the 
landlord  said  to  himself;  and  he  went  out 
on  the  stoop  to  retail  the  conversation  to  his 
cronies. 

The  young  Virginian's  curiosity  was 
piqued.  He  said  to  his  visitor: 

"You  may  take  the  horses  on  the  terms 
proposed.  I  thank  you  heartily  for  your  hos 
pitality.  I  should  be  glad  at  least  to  drive 
with  you  to  your  place,  and  in  person  choose 
their  successors.  May  I  inquire  at  what  dis 
tance  from  town  you  reside?" 

It  was  only  a  matter  of  some  four  miles 
down  the  river.  The  road  was  very  level, 
and  the  way  quite  shady. 

"There  they  come  now,"  remarked  Mr. 
Henning,  as  the  bay  horses  and  coach  passed 
the  window.  His  companion  looked  out  with 
ill-disguised  interest.  The  landlord  appeared 
again  at  the  door  to  announce  to  his  guest 
the  arrival  of  his  equipage;  and  the  two  gen- 


148  ROBIN  AROON 

tlement  left  the  public  room  of  the  tavern  to 
gether. 

On  the  stoop  stood  the  old  negro  driver, 
with  whip  in  hand. 

"I  got  a  word  fur  ye,  Mars'  Robert,"  he 
said,  as  Mr.  Henning  approached. 

"What  is  it,  Silas?"  his  master  asked, 
while  he  fastened  his  glove. 

"Hit's  private  an'  pertickler,  marster," 
Silas  replied,  looking  askance  at  Mr.  Gil- 
christ. 

"Excuse  me  for  a  moment,"  the  younger 
man  said,  with  a  bow  to  his  companion. 
"Come  here,  Silas." 

He  led  the  way  back  into  the  public  room. 

"Now,  what  is  your  private  and  particu 
lar  word,  sir?" 

"A  young  mistis',  jes'  on  de  aidge  o'  de 
town,  at  de  big  brick  house  wid  de  box- 
haidge  an'  de  vines  on  de  po'ch,  what  we 
passed  by  yistiddy — " 

"Well,  what  about  her?" 

"She  axed  me  fur  ter  say  ter  ye,  dat  she'd 
marry  ye  fur  dem  dar  bosses." 

"The  devil  you  say!" 

"Dat  she  did,  sah — dat  she  did,  marster! 
An'  no  debble  'bout  it,  nuther.  Mo'  belikes 


ROBIN  AROON  149 

ter  un  angel,  she  was,  Mars'  Robert.  Yas, 
marster." 

"Who  was  she,  Silas?" 

"I  axed  her  dat,  Mars'  Robert,  a-thinkin' 
dat  ye  mout  want  ter  know.  But  somehow  ur 
nuther,  I  'clar  ter  Gord,  I  done  smack  disre- 
membered  what  she  tole  me  she  name.  She's 
a  'rusty-crat,  howsomedever,  marster — fus' 
fambly,  an'  no  mistake.  Dat  is,  ef  dis  yer 
kentry  is  got  any  fus'  famblies,  like  Tide 
water  an'  de  Rappahannock  Valley  is.  An' 
purty,  too — uh!  uh!  Nice  old  place,  an' 
fine  folks  dar,  sar,  I'll  be  boun',  'scusin'  de 
nigger  dat  cuts  de  grass." 

"She  is  this  remarkably  eager  gentleman's 
remarkably  spoiled  daughter,"  thought  Mr. 
Henning,  and  he  stepped  after  his  new  ac 
quaintance  into  the  yellow  coach,  hung  high 
on  straps  above  its  glittering  wheels. 

Old  Silas  took  the  ribbons,  and  mounted 
the  lofty  box  with  becoming  gravity. 

"Drive  down  this  street,  boy,"  called  Mr. 
Gilchrist  from  the  coach-window;  and  indi 
cated  an  entirely  different  direction  from  that 
in  which  stood  the  brick  house  with  the  box- 
hedges.  He  had  no  desire  to  be  seen  of  its 


150  ROBIN  AROON 

fair  occupant,  sitting  behind  those  horses, 
cheek  by  jowl  with  their  owner. 

"Since  speaking  with  you  about  these  ani 
mals,"  said  the  Virginian,  settling  himself 
comfortably  amid  the  cushions,  "I  would  ask 
you  the  favor,  on  second  thought,  of  releas 
ing  me  from  my  bargain." 

It  was  Mr.  Gilchrist's  turn  to  be  surprised, 
but  he  was  not. 

"That  black  scoundrel  has  delivered  her 
message,"  he  thought. 

He  quietly  asked: 

"Why,  what  is  the  trouble  now?" 

"My  boy,  Silas,  has  brought  me  a  better 
offer." 

"Damn  your  insolence!"  said  Mr.  Gil- 
christ  under  his  breath,  looking  angrily  out 
of  the  window  on  his  side. 

Then  he  turned,  and  with  an  air  of  great 
decision,  replied: 

"Indeed,  I  regret  to  appear  discourteous, 
Mr.  Henning;  but  you  must  permit  me  to 
insist  that  our  bargain  is  a  binding  one,  and 
I  cannot  persuade  myself  to  consent  to  rescind 
it.  You  have  sold  me  the  horses." 

"So    I    have,"    said    Mr.    Henning,    with 


ROBIN  AROON  151 

i 

secret  amusement;  "say  no  more  about  it,  I 
pray.  The  horses  are  yours." 

The  coach  spun  rapidly  along  the  smooth 
road,  with  the  bays  on  their  best  mettle  at 
scarcely  a  touch  from  the  lash  of  the  ancient 
Jehu  on  the  box.  At  length  the  Virginian, 
who  had  been  surveying  the  landscape  from 
his  side  of  the  coach,  remarked: 

"I  observe  many  handsome  residences  in 
Halifax,  sir.  For  example,  the  large  quaint- 
looking  brick  building  at  the  northern  ex 
tremity  of  the  street  on  which  stands  the 
Tavern — I  refer  to  the  house  with  the  tall 
box-hedges." 

Mr.  Gilchrist  was  fast  coming  to  the  con 
clusion  that  this  young  man  possessed  the 
knack  of  making  himself  excessively  dis 
agreeable. 

"That  is  Judge  Montfort's,  sir.  One  of 
the  oldest  houses  in  the  town." 

"A  devilish  handsome  young  woman  there, 
sir,"  continued  Mr.  Henning,  with  reckless 
audacity. 

"When  did  you  see  her?"  asked  Mr.  Gil 
christ,  fixing  a  penetrating  look  upon  his  com 
panion's  face.  The  laughing  blue  eyes  that 


152  ROBIN  AROON 

met  his  were  not  reassuring  to  the  local  mag 
nate. 

"I — that  is  to  say,  I  am  compelled  to  con 
fess  that  I  have  never  seen  her.  I  only  know 
of  her  beauty  through  what  I  have  heard." 

Mr.  Gilchrist  was  visibly  annoyed,  and 
Henning  deemed  it  advisable  at  this  point  to 
pursue  the  subject  no  further. 

"A  fine  stretch  of  low  grounds  along  the 
river,"  he  said  irrelevantly;  and  his  com 
panion,  gazing  moodily  from  the  opposite 
window  of  the  coach  in  the  direction  of  the 
wooded  hills,  acquiesced  with  a  perfunctory 
nod  of  the  head. 

The  stream  sparkled  in  the  sunlight.  The 
air  was  pungent  with  the  odorous  breath  of 
pines  on  the  uplands.  Over  the  river  banks 
the  pawpaw  trees  stood  thick;  and  vines  and 
undergrowth,  in  rankly  verdant  and  inter 
woven  density,  spread  around  and  beneath 
the  trees.  Long  rows  of  deep  green  corn  shot 
up  their  tasseling  tops  from  the  dark  loam  of 
the  bottom-lands — an  army  with  silken  ban 
ners.  The  only  audible  noises  were  the  mur 
mur  of  the  river  water,  and  the  faint  foot 
fall  of  the  horses'  hoofs  upon  the  sandy  road. 

As  the  oscillating  vehicle  halted  at   Mr. 


ROBIN  AROON  153 

Gilchrist's  door,  Henning's  theory  about  the 
girl  who  had  sent  him  the  offer  for  his  horses 
was  suddenly  subverted. 

"You  will  have  to  put  up  with  a  bachelor's 
accommodations,  Mr.  Henning.  I  have  no 
women-folk,"  said  Mr.  Gilchrist. 


THE  FOURTH  CHAPTER 

NAMING   THE    SONG 

The  day  after  Mr.  Gilchrist  visited  Hen- 
ning  at  the  Silver  Swan  Tavern  and  bought 
his  span  of  horses,  Miss  Judith  Montfort  sat 
in  her  favorite  coign  of  vantage,  looking 
out  from  behind  green  shutters,  upon  the 
cool  umbrageous  street,  at  whomever  chanced 
to  be  passing  by  the  house  with  the  box- 
hedges.  Her  guest,  Miss  Isabel  Johnstone, 
with  her  back  to  the  light,  and  her  small 
slippered  feet  in  a  chair  in  front  of  her,  was 
seated  nearby,  leisurely  turning  the  pages  of 
a  play  that  had  lately  come  from  London,  by 
way  of  Philadelphia.  Its  title  was  "She 
Stoops  to  Conquer;  or,  the  Mistakes  of  a 
Night,"  and  it  had  been  produced  at  Covent 
Garden  Theatre  in  the  spring  of  the  preced 
ing  year,  and  received  by  the  fashion  of  the 
town  with  laughter  and  applause. 

"It  is  vastly  agreeable,"  commented  Miss 
Johnstone.  "The  character  of  Tony  Lump- 
kin  is  highly  amusing.  It  is  a  genuine  and 


ROBIN  AROON  155 

delightful  comedy;  and  I  can  well  imagine 
how  all  London  town  has  rang  with  it." 

"I  have  promised  to  lend  it  to  Captain 
Paul,"  said  Miss  Montfort.  "He  has  quite 
a  fancy  for  appearing  versed  in  the  belles 
lettres.  I  was  very  provoked  with  his  per 
formance  yesterday,  Isabel.  I  had  not  in 
vited  Captain  Paul  to  sing  a  duet  with  me; 
and  I  did  not  like  his  foolish  Irish  song." 

"It  seemed  to  me  quite  a  lovely  thing  to 
hear  you  two  singing,"  laughed  Miss  John- 
stone,  moving  one  of  the  pretty  feet  to  the 
floor,  and  slightly  shifting  her  position  so  as 
more  nearly  to  face  her  friend.  "Captain 
Paul's  voice  is  well  modulated;  and  I  think 
that  he  sang  with  much  dash  and  spirit.  But 
his  song  was  quite  new  to  me." 

"He  was  seeking  to  read  me  a  lesson  in  his 
lines,"  replied  Judith.  "He  thinks  that  I  am 
a  coquette,  and  that  it  is  his  duty  to  rebuke 
me,  however  politely,  for  my  delinquencies. 
Captain  Paul  is  a  pert  popinjay!" 

There  was  a  flash  of  a  trim  white-stock 
inged  ankle,  and  down  came  Miss  Isabel 
Johnstone's  other  foot.  The  London  play 
slipped  to  the  floor,  and  lay  there  unnoticed. 
The  unspoken  language  of  the  most  seductive 


156  ROBIN  AROON 

book  has  ever  lacked  attention,  where  two 
attractive  young  women  discuss  an  attractive 
young  man. 

"But  he  has  bewitching  eyes,  and  a  fetch 
ing  fashion  with  him,  you  must  allow,"  said 
Isabel,  looking  at  Judith. 

The  latter  responded  with  a  shrug  of  her 
shoulders  quite  French  in  effect,  and  a  grim 
ace  of  dissent. 

"Mr.  Hewes,"  continued  Miss  Johnstone, 
"regards  him  with  much  favor.  He  says 
that  Captain  Paul  is  an  unusual  instance  of 
a  Scotch  peasant  boy  rising  by  the  force  of 
his  own  genius  to  fill  a  ready  place  in  the 
society  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  of  the  best 
birth  and  breeding." 

"La,  what  a  flighty  compliment!"  said 
Judith.  "But,  indeed,  if  Mr.  Hewes  com 
mend  him,  I  shall  find  no  further  fault." 

Isabel  Johnstone  blushed,  and  looked  dis 
concerted. 

"I  do  confess,"  continued  Miss  Montfort, 
"that  he  is  possessed  in  no  small  degree  of  a 
gift  of  fancy  and  a  power  of  word-painting 
well  calculated  to  kindle  the  imagination  and 
win  the  esteem  of  women.  He  writes  a  beau 
tiful  round  hand;  he  speaks  French  with  a 


ROBIN  AROON  157 

native  accent;  and  he  can  make  amatory 
verses." 

"Oh,  can  he?"  queried  Miss  Johnstone,  re 
covering  her  composure.  "And  you  might 
add  that  his  career  has  been  unusual.  He  has 
seen  the  world — " 

"The  flesh  and  the  devil,  I  warrant  you!" 
added  Judith.  "I  vow,  as  I  live,  he  is  turn 
ing  in  at  the  gate,  at  this  moment!"  she  ex 
claimed,  glancing  beyond  the  box-hedges  to 
where  a  graceful,  erect  figure,  clad  in  light 
morning  costume,  and  wearing  a  dress-sword 
and  a  cocked  hat,  was  leisurely  leaving  the 
quiet  and  shady  street. 

"Quick,  Isabel,  let's  go  down,"  she  said; 
and  there  was  a  whispering  swish  of  skirts,  as 
she  arose  and  moved  toward  the  door  of  the 
room. 

"Not  I,  my  dear,"  said  that  young  lady, 
with  a  decision  that  smacked  of  pertness.  "I 
fancy  that  you  and  Captain  Paul  will  wish 
to  settle  the  Robin  Adair  matter,  and  I 
should  not  care  to  interfere.  I'll  take  your 
place  at  the  window,  however,  and  keep  a 
lookout  for  Mr.  Gilchrist." 

"Mr.  Gilchrist?"  repeated  Judith,  delay 
ing  on  the  threshold. 


158  ROBIN  AROON 

"And  when  your  Captain  leaves  I'll  fetch 
him  down  the  book,"  Isabel  continued,  stoop 
ing  to  pick  it  up  from  where  it  had  fallen. 
Then  she  kissed  her  hand  airily  to  Judith, 
and  sang  in  an  undertone : 

"  'Castles  are  sacked  in  war, 
Chieftains  are  scattered  far, 
Truth  is  a  fixed  star, 

Aileen  aroon !'  " 

"You  have  a  better  memory  than  I  could 
wish  for,"  retorted  Judith  to  the  graceful 
mocking  of  her  friend.  "I  don't  see  how  you 
manage  to  remember  the  perilous  stuff." 

So  saying  she  vanished;  and  a  few  mo 
ments  later  entered  the  cool  parlor  down 
stairs,  and  met  Captain  Paul  with: 

"I  had  not  expected  to  sing  a  duet  with 
you  yesterday." 

He  held  her  hand  which  she  had  given 
him  in  greeting,  and  led  her  to  a  seat  with 
ceremonious  politeness. 

"The  air  of  your  song  fetched  back  to  me 
the  words  of  mine,"  he  said.  Then  he 
added,  "It  seemed  a  more  diverting  game  to 
me  than  'Grind  the  Bottle'  or  'Hide  the 
Thimble.'  Your  kinsfolk,  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Jones,  appeared  to  enjoy  it  vastly." 


ROBIN  AROON  159 

"It  was  a  performance  which  has  lent  itself 
to  later  meditation,"  she  replied,  with  a  mim 
icry  of  devoutness. 

He  regarded  her  with  the  immemorial  and 
haunting  sorrow  in  his  eyes  that  is  as  old  in 
those  who  live  alone  as  is  man's  immemorial 
love  for  woman. 

"'Tis  a  song  that  will  linger  in  the  mem 
ory,"  he  said,  in  felicitous  response. 

"The  words  of  it  lie  outside  of  the  placid 
emotions  of  friendship,"  she  observed,  and 
there  was  a  reminiscent  melancholy  in  her 
voice  to  match  the  melancholy  of  his  gaze. 

A  shaft  of  sunshine  came  in  through  the 
half-closed  window,  and  touched  to  brighter 
gold  the  waving  wonder  of  her  hair. 

"Your  song,  or  mine?"  he  queried. 

"Both,"  she  answered.  She  was  airily 
smiling  at  him  now.  "I  was  angry  with  you; 
but  I  have  forgiven  you." 

"Ah,"  he  murmured,  "forgiveness  is  the 
fairest  flower  of  unselfishness." 

"Oh!"  she  exclaimed,  and  her  blue  eyes 
went  wide  open. 

"There  is  an  infinite  meaning  in  the  way 
of  saying  that  little  word  which  you  have  just 
uttered,"  said  Captain  Paul,  now  in  light 


160  ROBIN  AROON 

badinage,  and  adjusting,  his  speech  to  her 
visible  mood. 

"What  little  word?"  she  asked,  and  her 
eyes  opened  wider. 

"That  'oh!'  If  you  would  but  say  it 
again,  as  you  said  it!" 

She  stared  at  him  in  sheer  surprise  for  this 
new  phase  of  his  character.  Then  she 
laughed  in  merriment,  and  pursed  her  red 
lips  to  a  proper  shape.  There  was  a  gleam 
of  white  teeth  between  them. 

"Oh!"  she  said  softly. 

"The  repetition  emphasizes  the  truth  of 
my  observation,"  he  remarked,  gravely  sur- 
vevinq-  her.  He  drew  his  chair  nearer  hers, 
as  if  to  make  a  closer  inspection  of  her 
method  of  making  the  interjectional  sound. 
"This  last  was  entirely  different." 

She  drew  back  from  him,  a  little  appre 
hensive. 

"It  was  not  at  all  like,"  he  said.  "Would 
you  mind  repeating  it?" 

"Oh !"  she  exclaimed  again,  almost  hys 
terically. 

"You  have  now  uttered  it  in  three  essen 
tially  different  tones,  Miss  Montfort,  and  in 


ROBIN  AROON  161 

as   many  manners,"   he   commented.      "The 
first  was  exclamatory — " 

"Oh!"  she  repeated. 

"The  second  was  interrogative — " 

"Oh!"— 

"The  third  was  amused — " 

"Oh!  oh!  oh!  oh!"— 

She  clasped  her  hands,  and  the  exclama 
tions  came  in  a  series  of  repetitions  that  were 
involuntary.  She  seemed  to  be  obsessed  by 
some  spell  of  suggestion  in  his  dark  face. 

"Indifferent — careless — sardonic — scorn 
ful,"  said  he,  with  calm  and  scientific  pre 
cision. 

She  recovered  herself. 

"  'Grinding  the  Bottle'  and  'Hiding  the 
Thimble'  are  dignified  and  elegant  games  in 
comparison  with  this  new  one  of  yours,  Cap 
tain  Paul,"  she  said  half-angry,  half-laugh 
ing. 

"The  tender  'oh'  I  surmise  would  best  of 
all  adorn  your  rosy  mouth,"  said  the  bold 
young  adventurer,  regarding  that  feature 
with  a  steady  gaze. 

"You  think  me  a  coquette,"  she  ventured, 
still  dazzled  by  his  daring, 
ii 


162  ROBIN  AROON 

He  looked  into  'her  eyes  with  an  expres 
sion  so  imperturbably  serene,  that  in  spite  of 
her  large  experience  of  admiration  at  the 
hands  of  men,  she  yet  marvelled  at  him. 

"You  had  the  audacity  to  tell  me  so,"  she 
added  tentatively. 

He  still  surveyed  her  with  grave,  unsmil 
ing  countenance.  She  felt  in  his  silence  and 
in  his  unwavering  regard  an  occult  and  inde 
finable  fascination. 

"You  told  not  only  me,  but  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Jones  and  Isabel  Johnstone.  You  told  them 
all  with  your  foolish  song,"  she  went  on 
breathlessly. 

"Have  I  not  just  received  of  you  absolu 
tion?"  he  queried. 

"Then  why  this  new  mockery  of  oh!  and 
oh!  and  oh!  Captain  Paul?"  she  asked  with 
emphasis. 

She  felt  that  there  was  a  mist  of  tears  in 
her  eyes. 

"My  dear  young  lady,"  said  the  Scotch 
man  gently,  "I  am  here  this  morning  to 
assure  you  of  my  unfading  admiration, 
and  to  apologize  if  I  seemed  in  any  thing 
rude  with  my  song.  May  I  add  that,  while 
I  have  entertained  the  opinion  of  you  with 


ROBIN  AROON  163 

which  you  have  charged  me,  I  do  not  deem 
that  such  a  character  in  woman  is  without 
its  virtue,  as  it  surely  is  not  without  its 
charm.  It  is  the  sex's  nature  to  attract  and 
to  repel  by  turns.  I  think  I  have  read  in 
some  of  the  classic  writers  that  deception  is 
woman's  proper  weapon,  for  that  without  it 
she  might  have  a  grace  the  less  and  a  tear 
the  more.  And  so  I  deem  that  the  fair  one 
who  first  fans  the  flame  of  ardor  with  a  soft 
and  kindly  breeze,  and  then  'turns  on  an  icy 
gust,  is  but  surer  to  win  her  suitor  than  is  the 
quickly  yielding  miss,  from  whom  he  flees 
with  sated  palate  at  the  first  proclamation 
that  there  has  come  a  new  toast  to  town. 
Life  has  always  seemed  to  me  to  have  a 
quicker  heart-beat  for  its  uncertainty." 

He  was  smiling  at  her  now  with  a 
debonair  air  of  self-assurance  that  provoked 
her. 

"You  are  a  very  philosopher  of  love,"  she 
answered.  "And  so,  your  'Aileen  Aroon' 
was  not  for  the  purpose  of  rebuking  me  for 
a  serious  fault,  so  much  as  to  arouse  my  in 
terest  in  you?  You  are  vastly  ingenuous, 
Captain  Paul.  But  I  believe  it  is  a  quality 


1 64  ROBIN  AROON 

of  seafaring  men  to  be  frank  in  a  homely 
fashion." 

The  insouciance  of  the  Scotchman  was  im 
penetrable. 

"That  air  of  your  song  suggested  the 
words  of  mine,"  he  repeated.  "I  sang  the 
old  Irish  verses,  because  they  seemed  to  me  to 
illustrate  my  view  of  you,  and  to  point  my 
acceptance  of  the  challenge  which  you  so 
daringly  flung  at  me.  But  I  thought  in  the 
progress  of  our  singing,  that  if  I  were  more 
than  the  poor  poetaster  I  am,  how  I  should 
wish  to  weave  into  the  melodious  old  air  the 
words  of  a  newer  song  than  either.  And  the 
newer  song  should  thrill  with  all  the 
womanly  fervor  and  passion  of  your  'Robin 
Adair,'  and  throb  with  all  the  heroic  truth 
and  devotion  that  lie  in  the  words  of  'Aileen 
Aroon' ;  and  it  should  be  a  song  of  all  that 
is  sweetest  in  love  and  life,  and — " 

He  spoke  with  theatrical  language  and  in 
tonation,  but  with  the  earnestness  of  an  un 
mistakable  sincerity. 

"And  when  you  write  it,  I  shall  name  it, 
and  we  will  sing  it  together,  with  blending 
voices,  to  admiring  audiences,"  she  ex 
claimed;  moved  to  a  mutual  mood. 


ROBIN  AROON  165 

"And  the  name  of  the  song  shall  be — ?" 

"Robin  Aroon!"  she  murmured;  and  the 
look  of  her  shook  his  storm-beaten  heart. 

There  was  a  clang  of  the  brass  knocker  at 
the  door;  and  the  servant  ushered  into  the 
parlor  Mr.  Gilchrist. 

The  three  who  proverbially  are  not  com 
pany  soon  gave  place  to  the  two  who  proverb 
ially  are.  Captain  Paul,  with  the  ease  of  an 
accustomed  man  of  the  world,  sought  to  en 
gage  Mr.  Gilchrist  for  a  few  moments  in 
conversation  upon  the  casual  topics  of  the 
town.  The  magnate  had  met  him;  but  re 
garded  him  with  a  certain  measure  of  sus 
picion  even  though  knowing  him  to  be  under 
the  chaperonage  of  the  Joneses. 

"Mrs.  Jones  takes  odd  fancies  for  so  sen 
sible  a  woman,"  argued  Mr.  Gilchrist, 
against  his  own  natural  predilection  in  favor 
of  the  young  Scotchman;  "and  Mr.  Jones 
aids  and  abets  her  in  them." 

He  was  perceptibly  bored  by  Captain 
Paul's  brief  but  easy  flow  of  speech;  and 
Judith  was  amused  to  note  his  relief  when 
the  latter  arose,  and  making  his  polite  adieux, 
departed. 

"I  have  seen  Mr.  Henning,"  observed  Mr. 


1 66  ROBIN  AROON 

Gilchrist  bluntly  to  Miss  Montfort,  when 
Captain  Paul  had  gone. 

"Oh,  you  have?"  replied  Judith,  with  ap 
parent  rapture,  and  her  favorite  gesture  of 
clasped  hands.  They  were  very  white  and 
pretty  hands,  which  is  doubtless  the  reason 
why  she  so  favored  this  gesture.  "Is  he 
good  looking?  What  aged  man  does  he 
seem  to  be?  Will  he  stay  long  in  Halifax? 
Mr.  Gilchrist,  pray  tell  me  all  that  you  have 
learned  about  him!" 

Mr.  Gilchrist  did  not  exhibit  a  responsive 
enthusiasm.  On  the  contrary,  he  appeared 
decidedly  sour-visaged.  The  young  woman's 
interest  clearly  nettled  him. 

"Indifferent  well-looking,  and  I  may  not 
guess  his  age.  He  has  at  least  the  appear 
ance  of  a  gentleman.  I  bought  his  horses." 

There  was  an  air  of  triumph  in  his  final 
utterance  which  provoked  her  to  mirth.  He 
leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  regarded  her 
with  an  air  of  assured  possession. 

"Then  he  can't  get  away  before  the  As 
sembly  Ball,"  she  exclaimed. 

"He  has  a  pair  of  mine,"  said  Mr.  Gil 
christ  argumentatively. 


ROBIN  AROON  167 

"And  he  can  hardly  be  young,"  she  con 
tinued. 

"Why?"  queried  Mr.  Gilchrist,  with  in 
terest. 

— "Or  else  he  failed  to  receive  my  offer  of 
marriage,"  she  concluded,  sagely  ignoring  his 
question. 

Again  Mr.  Gilchrist's  brows  lowered,  and 
he  moved  restlessly  in  his  seat. 

"I  thought  we  had  agreed  to  dismiss  the 
discussion  of  that  piece  of  folly  on  your 
part,"  he  said  sternly. 

"However,"  she  resumed,  as  if  in  self-com 
munion,  "it  may  yet  be,  both  that  he  is  young 
and  that  he  received  the  offer.  But  if  so,  it 
follows  that  he  is  not  adventurous.  Now, 
Captain  Paul  is  highly  adventurous." 

"Good  God!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Gilchrist. 

"There  really  is  nothing  more  stupid  than 
an  unadventurous  young  man,  Mr.  Gilchrist; 
and  so  I  am  glad  you  bought  Mr.  Henning's 
horses." 

Mr.  Gilchrist's  austere  features  relaxed. 

"I  have  a  curious  feeling  about  those 
horses,"  the  girl  added — "some  strange  inti 
mation  that  I  am  yet  to  own  them." 


1 68  ROBIN  AROON 

She  smiled  at  Mr.  Gilchrist,  who  beamed 
back  at  her. 

When  he  had  gone,  with  a  complacency 
that  the  sense  of  successful  achievement  sel 
dom  fails  to  fetch  in  its  wake,  Judith  hastened 
upstairs. 

"It  was  extremely  provoking,  Isabel,"  she 
exclaimed,  fluttering  in  to  where  Miss  John- 
stone  still  sat  by  the  window,  whence  she  had 
seen  the  coming  and  going  of  the  two  men. 

"It  was  provoking,  beyond  expression, 
Judith,"  chimed  in  Miss  Isabel  Johnstone. 

"What  was,  mistress?"  queried  Judith 
tartly,  surprised,  and  stopping  in  the  middle 
of  the  room  to  see  in  the  French  mirror  on 
the  wall  if  her  hair  had  been  becomingly  ar 
ranged  while  her  beaux  were  present. 

"That  Mr.  Gilchrist  should  have  inter 
rupted  Captain  Paul  when  you  imagined  him 
on  the  point  of  a  proposal." 

"When  I  imagined!"  exclaimed  Miss 
Montfort.  "I  vow,  you  are  very  facetious !" 

"Judith,"  said  her  friend  gravely,  "Mr. 
Hewes  knows  Captain  Paul  with  a  very  inti 
mate  acquaintance,  and  says  that  his  ambition 
is  his  ruling  passion.  I  conceive  that  Captain 


ROBIN  AROON  169 

Paul  can  be  highly  agreeable  to  women.  I 
have  seen  enough  of  him  to  know  that  he  is 
charming  and  well-mannered,  and  indeed  a 
very  pretty  man.  But  by  his  own  confession, 
my  dear,  he  is  a  mere  peasant  adventurer. 
He  would  not  dare  to  lift  his  eyes  to  you, 
who  are  high-born  and  beautiful  and  the 
belle  of  the  Colony." 

"Ah,  you  do  not  know  Captain  Paul,"  re 
plied  Miss  Montfort  swiftly,  "for  there  is 
nothing  that  Captain  Paul  would  not  dare. 
He  would  dare  lift  his  eyes  to  any  princess  in 
Europe.  It  is  this  that  makes  him  so  irre 
sistible,"  and  she  sighed,  and  then  laughed 
softly. 

Isabel  Johnstone  regarded  her  friend  with 
the  quiet  wonder  with  which  the  girl,  whose 
future  life  is  settled  by  a  satisfactory  engage 
ment,  regards  the  Alexandrian  girl  who  is 
ever  pining  for  new  worlds  to  conquer. 

"I  infer  that  you  and  Captain  Paul  have 
at  least  settled  the  differences  between  you 
that  grew  out  of  the  song?" 

"He  would  like  to  mingle  his  song  and 
mine  in  a  perfect  love-ditty,  and  name  it 
'Robin  Aroon,'  "  said  Judith  musingly. 


170  ROBIN  AROON 

"I  vow,  I  was  so  interested  in  Mr.  Gil- 
christ's  coming,"  said  Miss  Johnstone,  "that 
I  forgot  entirely  to  give  Captain  Paul  Mr. 
Goldsmith's  play." 


THE  FIFTH  CHAPTER 

THE  ASSEMBLY  BALL 

The  Assembly  Ball  was  at  its  height  in  the 
great  dancing-room  of  the  Silver  Swan.  It 
was  a  goodly  company  there  gathered  to 
gether.  The  foremost  of  the  eastern  Caro 
linians  had  come  to  this  established  function; 
and  there  were  Alstons  and  Moores  and 
Davies  and  Ashes  and  Parkers  and  Burtons 
and  Haywoods  and  Branches — men  destined 
in  the  swift  impending  years  to  make  notable 
this  town  to  which  an  English  earl  had 
given  his  ancient  name;  and  women,  whose 
later  patriotism  was  to  adorn  the  first  an 
nals  of  a  State.  There  were  the  Crowells, 
sprung  from  the  house  of  the  Lord  Pro 
tector,  whose  emigrant  ancestor,  fleeing 
from  England,  to  escape  the  persecution 
of  the  restored  Stuarts,  still  preserved 
his  family  pedigree  inscribed  upon  aristo 
cratic  vellum,  whereon  was  recorded  the 
story  of  his  ceremonial  change  of  name 
by  the  process  of  cutting  from  a  parchment 


172  ROBIN  AROON 

sheet  the  letter  M  and  casting  the  discarded 
letter  into  mid-ocean.  There,  sparkling  with 
wit,  and  charming  the  brilliant  circle  that 
surrounded  her,  was  Captain  Paul's  hostess, 
Mrs.  Wiley  Jones,  daughter  of  a  governor 
and  the  later  verbal  discomfiter  of  Colonel 
Banastre  Tarleton,  of  His  Majesty's  invad 
ing  army  in  the  Revolution.  There  was  her 
husband's  brother,  Allen  Jones,  of  Mt.  Gal 
lant,  in  Northampton,  with  his  wife — the 
lovely  sister  of  Isaac  Edwards,  secretary  of 
the  noted  Governor  Tryon,  and  the  most  ac 
complished  woman  of  her  day  in  the  Colony; 
and  there,  also,  among  many  others  scarcely 
less  distinguished  socially  and  politically, 
were  Nicholas  Long,  afterward  commis 
sary-general  of  the  Carolina  troops  in  the 
Revolution,  and  his  courageous  spouse, 
whose  praises  in  her  old  age  are  said  by  the 
historian  to  have  been  sounded  by  all  the 
officers  of  the  American  army,  so  long  as  any 
were  left  who  had  known  her. 

Not  only  were  Halifax  and  the  adjoining 
county  of  Northampton  well  represented  by 
their  talent  and  beauty,  but  Edenton,  to  the 
east,  had  sent  up  its  annual  contingent  of  Ire- 
dells  and  Cabarruses  and  Dawsons  and 


ROBIN  AROON  173 

Brownriggs;  and  the  country  gentry  had 
come  from  far  and  near,  even  out  of  the 
towns  of  New  Berne  and  Wilmington. 

The  negro  fiddlers  from  Scotland  Neck, 
with  eyeballs  rolling  and  feet  that  patted  en 
thusiastic  time,  made  music  of  reel  and 
minuet  and  country-dance  and  rigadoon. 
Summer  moths  came  in  through  the  wide- 
open  windows,  and  fluttered  about  the  sput 
tering  wax-candles;  while  gallants  in  velvets 
and  laces  bowed  low  in  the  dance  to  ladies 
who  smiled  upon  them  with  dimpled  cheek 
and  patch  on  chin. 

Ranged  about  the  wall,  or  moving  back 
and  forth,  were  anxious  mothers  with  mar 
riageable  daughters;  indifferent  fathers  who 
took  snuff  and  were  bored;  handsome  girls 
and  homely  girls,  alike  beplumed,  belaced 
and  bejeweled;  beaux,  old  and  young,  ar 
rayed  in  gorgeous  splendor,  who  bowed  and 
smirked  and  capered,  saying  many  things 
they  did  not  mean,  and  meaning  many  things 
they  did  not  say. 

In  apartments  above  the  ball-room  a  num 
ber  of  the  gentlemen  played  cards,  or  toasted 
"The  Sons  of  America"  in  wine  or  toddy,  or 
sang  Liberty  songs. 


174  ROBIN  AROON 

"Sir,"  said  one  of  these  roysterers  to  Cap 
tain  Paul,  "may  I  present  you  to  the  ladies?" 

"I  do  not  care  to  dance  now,"  said  the 
sailor  politely. 

"Will  you  join  a  game  of  the  cards,  then?" 
persisted  the  officiously  hospitable  young 
man. 

"Nor  do  I  wish  to  game,"  responded  Paul, 
ever  suave  and  urbane. 

"Sir,  we  will  drink  a  bumper  together  to 
the  sex,"  said  the  Carolinian  warmly. 

"Pardon  me,  if  I  deny  myself  that  pleas 
ure  also,"  replied  the  Scotchman,  seeking  to 
move  on. 

"Then  what  the  devil  do  you  mean,  sir,  by 
coming  to  the  Assembly  Ball  in  Halifax,  if 
you  can  neither  dance,  play  the  cards,  nor 
drink?" 

The  question  was  rude  and  emphatic;  but 
the  sea  captain's  was  the  soft  answer  that 
turneth  away  wrath. 

"Sir,"  he  said  gently  and  serenely,  with 
the  dreaminess  in  his  sad  eyes  that  the  women 
loved,  "I  should  be  disposed  to  resent  your 
question  as  impertinent,  were  it  not  that  I  am 
able  to  assure  you  truthfully  that  I  can  do  all 
three  to  perfection." 


ROBIN  AROON  175 

"I  salute  you,  sir,"  responded  the  Caro 
linian,  "as  a  gentleman,  and  one  after  my 
own  heart." 

Meanwhile,  in  an  interval  between  two 
dances,  to  Miss  Judith  Montfort,  clad  in  the 
low-bodiced  lilac  silk,  just  unpacked  from 
Philadelphia  for  the  occasion,  from  beneath 
whose  skirt  peeped  at  intervals  a  pair  of 
dainty  high-heeled  lilac  slippers,  was  pre 
sented  by  Mr.  Gilchrist,  with  her  kind  per 
mission,  Robert  Henning,  esquire,  of  Bushy 
Park,  in  the  county  of  Middlesex,  Tidewater 
Virginia.  His  costume  was  white  satin 
threaded  with  gold,  and  his  hair  was 
frizzed  and  powdered,  and  tied  in  a  queue 
with  a  white  silk  riband.  More  than  one 
person  wondered  to  see  the  blush  that  man 
tled  the  girl's  soft  cheek  as  the  Virginian  bent 
almost  to  the  floor  before  her;  for  not  even 
Mr.  Gilchrist  guessed  that  she  was  afraid  lest 
this  young  stranger  might  speak  to  her  of  his 
horses. 

She  fingered  her  lace  handkerchief  and 
looked  down,  while  he  twirled  his  cocked  hat, 
and  thought  how  she  would  scorn  him  if  she 
but  knew  that  he  had  recently  parted  for 


176  ROBIN  AROON 

paltry  pounds  with  that  in  exchange  for 
which  she  had  offered  her  own  lovely  self. 

Captain  Paul  approached,  with  Miss 
Isabel  Johnstone  on  his  arm.  Though  not  so 
tall  as  Henning,  he  seemed  for  his  dignified 
and  elegant  carriage  no  whit  less  stately  and 
important;  and  Mr.  Joseph  Hewes's  fiancee 
appeared  very  handsome  in  her  white 
brocaded  silk  ball-frock,  with  the  ropes  of 
pearls  that  she  wore  blending  into  the  snowy 
smoothness  of  her  round  uncovered  neck  and 
shoulders. 

"La,  it  is  Mr.  Henning!"  whispered  Miss 
Johnstone,  as  they  approached  the  spot  where 
Mr.  Gilchrist  had  just  introduced  the 
stranger  to  Judith. 

"Haply  it  may  be  Robin  Aroon!"  replied 
Captain  Paul,  noting  the  mutual  pleased  re 
gard  of  the  newly  met  couple.  Isabel  had 
but  the  moment  before  expressed  to  him  her 
approval  of  the  wedding  of  Judith's  song 
with  his  own,  as  she  phrased  it;  and  her  de 
light  in  the  appropriateness  of  its  suggested 
title. 

Henning  was  duly  presented  to  Miss  John- 
stone  and  to  Captain  Paul;  who,  thereupon, 
after  some  pleasant  words  of  commonplace, 


ROBIN  AROON  177 

moved  on.  Mr.  Gilchrist,  with  fine  intuition, 
speedily  perceived  his  continued  presence  to 
be  out  of  place.  He  made  a  somewhat  stiff, 
though  entirely  appropriate  remark  to  Judith, 
and  withdrew  with  an  exalted  sense  of  his 
own  magnanimity;  and  the  music  beginning 
again,  Mr.  Henning  led  Miss  Montfort  to 
the  polished  floor,  with  the  eyes  of  the  as 
sembly  upon  them. 

When  the  ceremonious  minuet  was  ended, 
they  walked  together,  her  arm  in  his,  on  the 
long  stoop.  Among  the  crowd  of  negroes 
gathered  about  the  Tavern,  watching  the  fes 
tivities  with  keenly  eager  looks,  were  Silas 
and  Jasper,  each  undiscovered  of  the  other. 
They  stood  not  far  apart,  in  the  blaze  of  light 
from  an  open  window. 

As  the  young  couple  passed  by  in  their 
promenade,  Judge  Montfort's  servant  solilo 
quized  aloud : 

"Ah-yi!     She  done  got  him!" 

The  old  driver  of  Mr.  Henning's  coach 
almost  simultaneously  commented: 

"Uh-ump  !  Dat's  good-by  ter  dem  hosses. 
Gord  knows  how  we  gwi'  git  ter  de  Guff  o' 
Nexico,  now." 

12 


178  ROBIN  AROON 

Each  negro  heard  the  other's  remark;  and 
they  faced  about  and  glared  fiercely  at  each 
other  in  hostile  recognition. 

"J)ar's  dat  ole  lout  of  a  oberseer's  nigger 
agin,"  said  Jasper. 

"Well,  I'll  declar' !  I  wan't  a-lookin'  fur 
ter  see  dat  sassy  nigger  dat  cuts  de  grass,  here 
wid  de  white  folks,"  said  Silas. 

But  master  and  mistress  walked  back  and 
forth,  with  heads  so  inclined,  and  speaking  in 
such  low  whispers,  as  gave  promise  of  in 
creasing  the  two  servants'  acquaintance  with 
each  other  at  an  early  date.  He  was  telling 
her  of  his  travels,  and  of  his  home  in  Tide 
water  Virginia,  and  of  his  people — mother, 
sister,  brother;  and  she,  with  the  responsive 
ness  of  awakened  confidence,  told  him  in  turn 
many  things  of  herself — each  after  the  sweet, 
immortal  fashion  of  love's  beginning  since 
the  world  began.  Many  things  she  told  him ; 
and,  with  others,  that  she  was  the  spoiled 
darling  of  an  indulgent  and  widowed 
father — and  that  he  should  see  the  cool  sum 
mer  beauty  of  her  house  with  the  box-hedges. 
But  there  was  one  thing  that  she  did  not  tell 
him;  and  that  one  thing  she  found  herself 
half-fearing  that  she  might  never  have  occa- 


ROBIN  AROON  179 

sion  to  tell  him;  and  there  was  yet  another 
theme  of  which  each  thought  and  neither 
spoke.  Neither  mentioned  the  horses. 

They  danced  again;  and  when  in  the  late 
night  the  ball  was  over,  he  went  with  her  to 
her  father's  chariot,  and  lingeringly  tucked 
the  lilac  silk  about  the  little  feet  with  the 
high-heeled  shoes,  standing  the  while  on  the 
dangerous  elevation  of  one  of  the  long  string 
of  steps,  that  had  been  unrolled  from  the  floor 
of  the  loftily  swung  vehicle  to  the  ground, 
for  my  lady's  exit  and  entrance. 

"Good-night,"  she  said.  "I  thank  you. 
I  trust  we  may  meet  again  ere  you  leave  Hali 
fax  Borough." 

"It  will  be  your  fault  if  we  do  not,"  he 
answered.  "I  owe  the  thanks.  Good 
night." 

Mr.  Gilchrist  listened,  near  at  hand,  and 
frowned ;  and  Miss  Johnstone,  on  the  further 
seat  of  the  coach,  also  listened,  and  smiled 
in  the  darkness.  Then  there  was  silence  in 
the  Montfort  chariot  for  the  space  of  three 
meditative  minutes,  as  the  vehicle  rolled 
along  the  sandy  street  in  the  direction  of  the 
house  with  the  box  hedges.  At  the  end  of 
this  time  Judith  leaned  over  and  took  the 


i8o  ROBIN  AROON 

soft  responsive  hand  of  Isabel  Johnstone  in 
her  own. 

"Oh,  Isabel,"  she  murmured,  "it  was  all 
so  beautiful." 

"Quite  beautiful,"  assented  Miss  John- 
stone  undramatically,  reflecting  how  all  things 
lacked  essential  beauty  in  the  absence  of  the 
unapproachable  Mr.  Joseph  Hewes,  then 
sailing  to  the  nor'ward. 

"And  do  you  truly  think,  Isabel,  that  I 
I  shall  really  ever  see  him  again?" 

"Yes,  dear,"  said  the  sapient  Isabel,  "to 
morrow  morning,  very  soon  after  breakfast." 


THE  SIXTH  CHAPTER 

'i 

LIFE'S  SUNNY  MORNING 

It  was  the  day  after  the  ball.  Judith's 
time  for  her  beauty-sleep  had  elapsed  an  hour 
before;  and  in  some  way  known  only  of 
youth  and  love  Mr.  Robert  Henning  had  dis 
covered  for  himself  the  exact  location  of  the 
brick  house  with  the  box-hedges.  At  this 
unseemly  morning  hour  of  eleven  o'clock  by 
the  dial  in  front  of  the  summer-house,  with 
the  flower-beds  about  it  and  above  the  laugh 
ing  day,  Miss  Montfort  and  the  Virginian 
found  themselves  seated  on  a  rustic  bench  in 
that  alluring  and  secure  retreat,  shut  out  from 
the  inquisitive  gaze  of  the  world  by  a  green 
redundance  of  woodbines  covering  the  frail 
structure.  The  perfume  of  the  blossoms  per 
vaded  the  gay  June  morning ;  and  a  horde  of 
untiring  bees  were  droning  at  their  labor  of 
honey-making — a  labor  of  which  the  imag 
inative  fancy  of  Captain  Paul,  had  he  looked 
upon  the  pretty  picture  that  the  arbor  framed, 


1 82  ROBIN  AROON 

might  well  have  woven  some  apt  and  poetic 
simile.  The  very  air  was  suggestive,  to  the 
bees,  of  honey-making. 

Perhaps  there  had  been  a  show  of  surprise 
in  the  girl's  face — though  there  was  none  in 
Isabel  Johnstone's — when  a  few  minutes 
earlier  Mr.  Henning  had  been  ushered  into 
the  cool  and  dimly  lit  parlor,  where  the  two 
young  women  sat,  after  their  late  breakfast, 
talking  about  him. 

"I  believe  he  has  really  fascinated  you, 
Judith,"  Miss  Johnstone  had  said  to  her 
friend;  and  a  suffusion  of  accusing  color  lit 
the  latter's  cheeks  at  the  soft  impeachment. 

"Last  night,"  replied  Judith,  with  empha 
sis.  "This  is  the  day  after.  It  is  always  the 
day  after  when  the  debt  is  to  be  paid.  'One 
day  after  sight'  or  'after  date,'  or  after  some 
thing  that  we  sometimes  regret,  run  man 
kind's  and  womankind's  bills  of  exchange  and 
promises  to  pay.  It  is  the  day  after,  dear, 
in  which  the  sorrows  of  life  are  totted  up  in 
a  column,  like  the  little  children's  sums," 
said  Judith,  oppressed  with  an  unusual  melan 
choly.  "I  have  heard  Captain  Paul  say 
that  this  was  true  alike  of  cards  and  the 
bottle." 


ROBIN  AROON  183 

"I  know  the  cause  of  your  gloom,  sweet 
lady,"  Isabel  Johnstone  had  responded  arch 
ly.  "But  I  am  no  false  prophet.  There  he 
is  now,  with  his  aristocratic  Virginian  hand 
on  the  knocker." 

When  Henning  had  entered  the  room, 
Isabel  made  a  quick  excuse  to  disappear,  with 
that  irritating  intimation  therein  of  the  en 
gaged  girl  to  the  unengaged : 

"I  have  landed  my  fish.  I  am  the  super 
ior  angler;  but  I  shall  not  do  you  the  injustice 
of  fishing  in  your  own  waters,  with  my  better 
skill  and  equipment." 

Yet  to-day  Judith  did  not  mind  it.  In 
deed,  in  spite  of  her  protestation  of  'the  day 
after  date,'  she  was  glad  of  Miss  Johnstone's 
departure,  in  the  consciousness  that  Henning 
had  profoundly  awakened  her  interest.  To 
make  sure  against  intrusion,  she  had  invited 
him  to  the  summer-house — "where  it  is  cool 
er,"  she  had  explained. 

He  thought  that  nothing  could  seem  cooler 
or  more  charming  than  this  spacious  parlor 
where  they  sat;  but  in  his  worldly  wisdom 
he  took  the  invitation  to  a  more  secluded 
spot  for  a  sign,  and  was  acquiescent  accord 
ingly. 


1 84  ROBIN  AROON 

The  explanation  had  been  made  with  some 
slight  indication  of  embarrassment  on 
Judith's  part,  as  if  she  feared  her  visitor 
might  perceive  its  underlying  motive.  This, 
with  youth's  instinctive  intelligence  in  such 
matters,  he  very  promptly  saw;  and  was 
pleased  to  interpret  her  diffidence  as  indica 
tive  of  an  interest  that  he  was  deeply  anxious 
to  inspire. 

The  vision  of  her  beauty  at  the  ball  had 
overwhelmed  him;  and  he  had  but  lately 
awakened  from  dreams  of  this  fair,  new 
found  face,  which  now  seemed  to  regard  him 
with  an  involuntary  and  unconscious  interest, 
that  was  deeper  and  sweeter  than  surprise. 

"I  did  not  hope  when  we  parted  last  night 
that  you  would  really  come  to  see  me  so 
soon,"  she  said;  and  the  tender  implication 
of  a  blush  suffused  her  cheeks. 

"Did  you  really  hope  for  my  coming?"  he 
asked  gently.  The  intonations  of  his  voice 
were  soft  and  musical;  but  the  ultimate 
meaning  of  his  question  was  more  legible  in 
the  frank  blue  eyes  that  regarded  her. 

Her  own  fell  to  her  lap;  and  she  played 
with  a  spray  of  the  woodbine-blossoms  that 


ROBIN  AROON  185 

she  had  nervously  twisted  from  the  vine  when 
they  entered  the  summer-house  together. 
She  did  not  answer  his  question.  It  seemed 
altogether  too  obvious  for  so  early  an  hour  in 
their  love-passages. 

"I  was  deeply  interested  in  all  that  you  told 
me  last  night  of  your  home  in  Virginia;  and 
I  thought  it  very  strange  that  even  before  I 
had  met  you, — though  since  your  arrival  in 
Halifax, — I  had  been  told  about  Bushy  Park 
by  one  who  had  seen  it." 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  regard  of  curious 
inquiry;  and  for  the  first  time  her  eyes  met 
his  own  frankly.  The  kindly  simplicity  of 
her  speech  and  demeanor  charmed  him  un- 
speakably. 

"Ah,"  she  said,  "Mr.  Henning,  you  do  not 
yet  know  Halifax;  and  so  I  must  tell  you  that 
one  of  its  most  popular  matrons  is  Mistress 
Wiley  Jones  of  The  Grove.  She  has  recent 
ly  taken  a  strong  fancy  to  a  young  Scotchman, 
who  has  followed  a  sea-fearing  life,  and  who 
came  to  the  town  of  Edenton  in  the  eastern 
part  of  our  Province  from  the  Indies. 
Thence  he  visited  Halifax  with  letters;  and 
he  has  now  been  at  The  Grove  for  some 


1 86  ROBIN  AROON 

weeks.  He  possesses  a  distinguished  air  and 
accomplished  manners.  He  has  proved  a 
great  boon  to  the  social  life  of  our  town ;  and 
Mistress  Jones,  who  is  my  cousin,  really 
thinks  him  in  love  with  me." 

This  demurely  and  with  downcast  eyes. 

Henning  recalled  his  friend  Lee's  opinion 
of  Scotchmen  as  expressed  in  a  moment  of  un 
guarded  conviviality  about  the  board  at 
Bushy  Park;  and  for  once  was  inclined,  in 
spite  of  his  regard  for  Greig,  to  concur  with 
it. 

"He  makes  bad  verses  to  the  ladies,"  con 
tinued  Judith.  "I  am  a  victim.  He  is  a 
good  dancer.  I  have  danced  with  him.  He 
speaks  French  respectably,  and  writes  a  beau 
tiful  handwriting.  These  are  noteworthy 
accomplishments  in  a  foreigner,  when  no 
young  gentleman  passing  through  this  colony 
is  presumed  to  be  such,  unless  he  have 
an  acquaintance  with  at  least  dancing,  box 
ing,  playing  the  fiddle  and  small  swords  and 
cards.  He  sings  divinely;  and  I  am  told  by 
my  cousin,  Mr.  Jones,  that  this  young  man 
has  a  very  genteel  acquaintance  with  all  the 
arts  I  have  enumerated." 


ROBIN  AROON  187 

"Damn  the  Scotchman!"  thought  Hen- 
ning,  who  never  swore. 

It  is  a  strange  thing,  how  many  people, 
men  and  women,  think  "damn  him,  her  or 
it." 

Henning  was  hardly  interested,  save  after 
an  antagonistic  and  outraged  fashion,  in 
Judith's  description  of  Captain  Paul,  beyond 
the  delight  that  he  derived  from  looking  into 
her  unfathomable  eyes  as  she  talked  of  him; 
and  wondering  with  an  unspeakable  longing 
at  the  moist  redness  of  her  mouth,  as  he 
thought  what  might  be  the  emotion  of  him 
who  should  kiss  it. 

"I  saw  him  at  the  ball,"  he  commented 
aloud ;  and  again  conceived  the  hot,  unspoken 
sentiment : 

"Damn  him!" 

"Well,"  she  went  on,  naively,  "he  told  me 
a  few  days  ago,  when  I  was  out  at  The  Grove, 
that  he  had  seen  your  place  of  Bushy  Park, 
from  his  ship  in  Rappahannock  River.  He 
described  it  at  night,  with  its  innumerable 
front  windows  blazing  with  light." 

"Ah!"  said  Henning  reminiscently,  "how 
it  all  comes  back  to  me !  But,"  he  continued 
curiously,  "why  should  Captain  Paul  speak 


1 88  ROBIN  AROON 

of  me  and  of  my  house  to  you,  who  knew 
nothing  of  me.  You  never  heard  of  me  be 
fore  I  came  to  Halifax?" 

Again  her  eyes  sought  the  spray  of  wood 
bine  bloom,  and  she  seemed  distraught. 

"I  had  talked  of  you  first  to  him,"  she  ans 
wered;  and  hesitated,  wondering  if  the  ridi 
culous  old  negro  by  any  possibility  might  have 
dared  to  deliver  to  him  her  foolish  message 
about  the  horses. 

"And  had  you  known  of  me  before  I  came 
to  Halifax?"  he  asked,  with  fatuous  delight, 
expecting  an  affirmative  reply. 

He  bent  on  her  a  smile  of  pleased  anticipa 
tion. 

She  might  have  truthfully  answered  him, 
with  that  finely  drawn  evasion  of  fact  and 
skilled  interpretation  of  fancy,  which  is  some 
times  woman's  divinest  gift: 

"Every  one  in  Halifax  knows  of  every  one 
who  is  any  one  in  Virginia." 

But  she  was  an  artist,  and  she  did  not. 
She  flashed  at  him  a  glance  of  radiant  mirth, 
and  said: 

"Never!" 

It  was  her  chance  of  which  she  availed  her 
self,  knowing  her  ground.  She  laughed  to 


ROBIN  AROON  189 

note  the  look  of  disconcerted  blankness  that 
stole  into  his  face,  as  his  lower  jaw  dropped. 
She  could  have  hugged  herself  for  her  wit 
and  diplomacy. 

"I  don't  understand  it,"  he  said. 

"Well,"  she  observed  softly,  and  half- 
hesitating  continued  meanwhile  to  beat  her 
knee  with  the  woodbine;  "Mr.  Gilchrist  had 
talked  to  me  about  you.  He  said  that  your 
family  was  very  prominent  in  Virginia,  and 
that  you — " 

She  paused  for  a  moment  with  fine  effect; 
then  looking  at  him  earnestly,  she  continued, 
"You  know,  Mr.  Gilchrist  is  one  of  my  fath 
er's  warmest  friends.  My  father  has  a  very, 
very  great  regard  for  Mr.  Gilchrist." 

"I  do  not  doubt  that  it  is  well  bestowed," 
replied  Henning.  "Mr.  Gilchrist  has  been 
quite  kind  to  me.  He  called  on  me  at  the 
Swan  Tavern  on  the  morning  after  my  arrival 
here.  I  have  never  been  so  immediately  and 
overwhelmingly  honored  by  an  entire  strang 
er  before." 

The  girl  laughed  a  soft,  delighted  laugh, 
and  clasped  her  pretty  hands  together  in  her 
glee.  Then  she  lifted  the  wild  honeysuckle 


i9o  ROBIN  AROON 

to  her  face,  and  smiled  at  him  through  its 
leaves  and  flowers. 

"Ah!  that  was  delicious,"  she  said. 

Henning  was  not  sure  whether  she  referred 
to  Mr.  Gilchrist's  early  call,  or  to  the  aroma 
of  the  flower. 

"He  seems  to  be  a  great  fancier  of 
horses?"  observed  Henning  interrogatively, 
watching  her  closely. 

She  made  no  reply. 

"He  wanted  to  buy  mine,"  he  continued, 
still  eyeing  her. 

"You  surely  did  not  sell  them  to  him — ?" 
she  said  impressively. 

"I  did,"  he  answered. 

There  was  a  ludicrous  ruefulness  in  the 
tone  of  his  reply. 

Her  eyes  sparkled. 

"After  what  I — ?"  she  murmured. 

The  woodbine  spray  fell  from  her  hands. 
She  did  not  finish  the  question. 

"Ah,  but  I  had  not  seen  you  then,"  he  ex 
plained  in  eager  extenuation. 

Then  with  a  show  of  feeling  he  solilo 
quized  : 

"What  an  infernal  ass  I  was!" 

She  lifted  to  him  the  glory  of  eyes  that 


ROBIN  AROON  191 

were  half-shining,  half-misty.  He  stooped 
and  picked  up  the  bloom. 

She  held  out  a  seductive  hand,  and  said : 

"May  I  have  it,  please?" 

He  caught  the  seductive  hand  in  his  own. 

"A  fair  exchange  is  no  robbery,"  he  ans 
wered,  while  she  struggled  gently  and  very 
unsuccessfully  to  withdraw  it  He  could  see 
that  her  bosom  was  heaving,  and  that  her 
eyes  were  averted.  There  was  a  tremor  in 
her  voice  as  she  asked,  faintly  smiling: 

"What  is  the  price  of  it,  Mr.  Henning?" 

"Some  little  part  of  your  regard,"  he  ans 
wered,  bending  toward  her,  with  the  impulse 
to  catch  her  in  his  arms. 

"Then  give  it  to  me,"  she  said,  looking  at 
him  unabashed. 

He  laid  the  tangle  of  green  and  pink  in  her 
lap,  still  holding  her  hand. 

"Mr.  Henning,"  she  said, — and  he 
thought  that  a  pallor  had  come  into  her 
cheeks  that  but  now  had  seemed  rosier  than 
the  woodbine  bloom, — "is  this  the  fashion  of 
paying  morning  calls  upon  unprotected  young 
women  in  the  Province  of  Virginia?" 

The  query  contained  a  magic  and  indefina- 


1 92  ROBIN  AROON 

ble  charm  for  Henning.  It  delighted  him 
with  a  subtle  sense  of  elusive  reminiscence. 

"It  is  the  fashion — I  am  sure  it  must  be 
the  fashion — of  David  with  Nancy  Carter, 
—and  of  Greig  with  Betty  Berkeley, — and  of 
Tom  Randolph  with  Milly  Hubbard.  It 
certainly  must  be;  though  none  of  them  has 
ever  told  me  of  it.  I  can  swear,  however, 
for  myself  that  it  has  been  none  of  mine, 
elsewhere  than  here !" 

"Oh!"  she  said  warmly,  "who  are  they? 
Nancy,  and  Betty,  and  Milly?" 

The  color  came  back  to  her  cheeks,  and 
the  mirth  to  her  eyes.  She  withdrew  her 
captive  hand. 

"Three  love-stories!  Oh!  tell  me  a 
beautiful  love-story,  Mr.  Henning." 

"I  have  but  poor  words  to  tell  a  love-story 
to  any  woman — least  of  all,  to  you,"  he  ans 
wered  pointedly.  "  'Tis  more  the  pity,  when 
I  can  imagine  so  charming  a  one." 

"With  yourself  for  the  hero?" 

He  nodded. 

"And  Nancy — or  Betty — or  Milly — or 
what's  her  name?" 

"Judith,"  he  responded  tenderly,  capturing 


ROBIN  AROON  193 

again  the  escaped  hand,  that  seemed  no  long 
er  elusive  or  impatient  of  captivity. 

Their  eyes  met;   and  each  knew. 

"I  should  like  to  kiss  you,"  he  said. 

The  spray  of  blossoms  slipped,  again,  un 
noticed  to  the  ground. 

"Sir,"  she  said  saucily,  "do  you  not  know 
that  such  gifts  are  not  for  the  mere  asking?" 

She  wagged  her  pretty  head  at  him  with  a 
daring  that  was  irresistible. 

"They  cannot  be  for  the  mere  taking,"  he 
answered,  smiling  and  prolonging  the  sweet 
suspense  which  gives  love  its  finest  flavor; 
and  half-afraid,  too,  lest  he  might  lose  her 
by  a  too  rough  assault.  "It  would  be  un 
pardonable  rudeness." 

Her  maiden  passion  was  at  full  tide. 

"I  can  swear  that  it  is  a  fashion  that  has 
been  none  of  mine — elsewhere,"  she  said; 
and  her  breath  came  short. 

She  looked  down  at  the  toe  of  her  slipper, 
and  then  looked  up  at  her  lover,  and  smiled 
at  him  in  adoring  mockery. 

"Ah,  me!"  she  sighed  inexpressibly. 

Then  she    asked    in    almost    inarticulate 
words : 
13 


i94  ROBIN  AROON 

"Would  it  be  proper?" 

"Perfectly  so,"  he  replied,  "if  it  were  a 
confession." 

"A  confession? — of  what?" 

"Of  what  I  have  already  seen  in  your 
eyes,"  he  said  with  proud  assurance. 

His  arm  was  around  her,  unresisting;  and 
he  drew  her  to  him.  She  lifted  her  face  to 
his,  with  the  light  on  it  that  never  was  on  land 
or  sea.  He  bent  over  her  and  kissed  her  on 
her  half-parted  lips.  Her  eyes  closed  for  a 
delicious  moment;  then  opening,  bloomed 
purple  into  perfect  flowers  of  love. 

She  sighed  heavily — a  suspiration  of  de 
light.  Then  she  extricated  herself,  and  said : 

"To  think  of  it !  Here,  in  the  broad  day 
light!" 

She  laughed  a  soft,  contented  laugh;  and 
taking  his  hand  in  both  of  hers,  asked: 

"Did  Mr.  Gilchrist  really  buy  the  horses?" 

He  nodded,  smiling  and  exultant. 

"And  did  you  dare  sell  them  to  him,  Robin, 
after  getting  my  inviting  message?" 

He  nodded  again,  still  smiling,  yet  not 
quite  so  exultant. 

"Oh,  Robin  Aroon!"  she  laughed,  "now 
how  can  I?" 


ROBIN  AROON  195 

"Can  you  what?"  he  asked,  looking  puz 
zled. 

"Marry  you  for  those  horses?"  she  said. 

"Oh,  I'll  buy  'em  back,"  he  answered 
bravely. 


THE  SEVENTH  CHAPTER 

"THESE,  WITH  HASTE" 

Under  the  woodbine  arbor  from  which  the 
blossoms  were  now  long  gone,  Judith  Mont- 
fort  read  aloud  to  Henning  in  the  late  sum 
mer  weather  the  letter  that  had  just  come  to 
him  from  the  Reverend  Mr.  Heffernan,  min 
ister  of  Christ  Church,  Middlesex,  in  the 
Colony  of  Virginia.  It  was  written  in  a  fine 
ornate  script,  and  was  addressed  "To  Robert 
Henning,  esquire,  in  the  care  of  Mr.  Thomas 
Gilchrist,  at  Halifax  Borough  in  the  Colony 
of  North  Carolina:  These,  with  haste"; 
and  it  was  sealed  with  red  sealing  wax,  im 
pressed  with  the  parson's  family  crest. 

"  'Robin  aroon,'  '  wrote  Mr.  Heffernan, 
and  read  Miss  Judith  in  a  voice  which  Hen 
ning  thought  the  most  musical  on  earth  as  he 
listened:  "  'Robin  aroon,  Your  letter  fetches 
me  news  that  I  had  not  learned  from  your 
relatives  at  Bushy  Park.  When  I  last  visited 
the  place,  which  was  some  days  ago,  T  found 
your  mother,  brother,  and  sister  enjoying 


ROBIN  AROON  197 

good  health,  and  seemingly  much  diverted 
that  your  trip  through  the  southern  colonies 
should  end  at  Halifax;  but  they  made  no 
mention  of  your  approaching  marriage.  Yet 
all  the  while  I  could  but  observe  that  they 
exchanged  glances  among  themselves,  when 
speaking  of  you,  that  conveyed  no  meaning 
to  me  beyond  one  of  mystery. 

'I  refer  to  your  young  brother  and  sister 
in  this  allusion  to  the  interchange  of  meaning 
looks.  Your  mother  is  ever  too  well-man 
nered  to  indulge  in  such  demeanor.  Which 
covert  glances  I  now  interpret  as  intimating 
a  hidden  knowledge  of  that  concerning  which 
your  letter,  now  open  before  me  as  I  write, 
informs  me. 

"  'I  am  much  honoured  that  you  should  de 
sire  my  participation  in  the  ceremony  so  soon 
to  occur,  and  in  which  you  are  to  perform  a 
significant  and  important  part.  I  hope  that 
the  incumbent  of  the  parish  in  Halifax  is  a 
good  churchman.  Many  of  these  Carolina 
ministers  are  hardly  loyal  to  the  church. 

'I  assure  you  that  I  shall  gladly  comply 
with  your  request — Mistress  Henning  this 
morning  having  notified  me  by  a  letter,  sent 
over  from  Bushy  Park  to  the  Glebe  by  the 


198  ROBIN  AROON 

hands  of  your  brother  David,  that  I  am  in 
vited  to  make  one  of  the  wedding  party  out 
of  Middlesex.  This  procession  of  guests  will 
also  include  David  and  Elenor,  Mr.  Greig, 
the  Scotchman,  and  Miss  Elizabeth  Berkeley 
of  Barn  Oaks,  Colonel  Selden  and  Mr.  Ball, 
from  the  northern  side  of  Rappahannock, 
Mr.  Laurence  Lee,  Mr.  John  Ree,  the 
sprightly  Mistress  Turberville  of  Peckatone, 
mortal  foe  of  gates,  and  some  others  who  will 
join  the  line  of  chariots,  coaches,  chaises  and 
chairs  in  Williarnsburg. 

"  'I  sorrow  to  be  compelled  to  pass  through 
so  pestilent  and  treasonable  a  hole  as  that 
same  city;  but  I  opine  hopefully  that  no  stay 
of  duration  will  be  made  there. 

"  'Mistress  Henning  bids  me  say  to  you, 
should  I  chance  to  write  to  you  of  my  pro 
jected  coming,  that  John  and  Anne  Carter 
will  also  go  to  the  southward  with  our  wed 
ding-party,  leaving  Westmoreland  on  the  day 
before  our  departure  from  Bushy  Park,  and 
joining  us  at  the  ferry  over  York  River.  She 
adds  that  you  will  understand,  which  I  do 
not,  if  I  shall  further  say  to  you  that  Nancy's 
eyebrows  are  now  full-grown. 

"  'David,  who  fetched  your  mother's  let- 


ROBIN  AROON  199 

ter,  and  stayed  to  breakfast  with  me  at  the 
Glebe,  upon  learning  that  I  am  to  write  you, 
requests  that  I  will  make  you  informed  of 
the  news  about  Miss  Elizabeth  Berkeley  and 
the  Scotchman.  He  says  that  what  he  has 
writ  you  on  the  subject  is  true,  and  that  they 
are  as  friendly  as  two  peas  in  the  same  green 
pease-pod.  He  also  wishes  me  to  add  an  un 
seemly  remark  of  his,  to  the  effect  that  young 
women  can  fling  dust  in  your  eyes  as  easily  as 
I  can  shake  it  from  my  sandbox  on  to  this 
writing,  intimating  thereby  your  lack  of  soph 
istication,  and  insinuating  that  if  you  be  not 
careful,  your  lady  love  may  yet  give  you  the 
slip. 

"  'These  observations  in  their  complete 
ness  I  forbear  to  convey  to  you ;  but  I  deem  it 
my  duty  to  inform  you  of  their  general  pur 
port,  in  order  that  you  may  judge  how  utterly 
unable  this  Greig  is  to  mould  into  polite  fash 
ion  the  manners  of  his  young  charges. 

"  'Master  David,  I  will  add  of  my  own 
motion,  after  breakfasting  with  me,  and  ac 
cepting  of  my  hospitality  freely,  had  the  ill- 
grace,  prior  to  his  departure,  to  tie  a  small 
thorn  bush  to  the  tail  of  my  riding-horse, 


200  ROBIN  AROON 

Jotank,  whereby  I  came  near  to  grief  in  my 
morning's  ride  to  Christ  Church. 

"  'I  regard  with  apprehension  and  distrust 
the  probable  presence  of  David  and  young 
Carter  in  our  journey  'cross-country  to  Hali 
fax.  I  do  not  credit  his  confidential  com 
munication  made  to  me,  as  he  helped  himself 
bountifully  to  hot  batterbread  at  my  break 
fast-table  this  morning,  that  he  is  by  no  means 
certain  of  going.  \Yhen  I  pressed  him  for  a 
reason  for  declining  so  agreeable  a  mission,  he 
informed  me  that  should  he  go,  he  might  find 
himself  in  a  devil  of  a  fix — inasmuch  as  Miss 
Evelyn  Harrison  of  Wakefield  is  expected  to 
join  his  mother's  coach  on  the  way;  and  that 
between  her  and  the  aforesaid  Miss  Anne 
Carter  he  would  be  like  the  hungry  ass  be 
tween  the  two  bundles  of  hay — he  having 
made  love  to  both  of  them. 

"  'I  thereupon,  to  comfort  him,  for  this 
was  before  his  performance  with  the  thorn- 
bush,  bade  him  reflect  that  they  would  not 
travel  in  the  same  vehicle;  and  knowing  his 
temperament,  I  sang  to  him  a  stave  of  the 
song  in  the  Beggar's  Opera,  that  the  women 
of  my  boyhood  in  Ireland  were  wont  to  carry 
engraved  upon  their  fans :  to-wit : 


ROBIN  AROON  201 

" '  "If  the  heart  of  a  man  is  oppressed  with  cares 

The  mists  are  dispelled  when  a  woman  appears; 
Like  the  notes  of  a  fiddle,  she  sweetly,  sweetly 
Raises  the  spirit  and  charms  the  ears."  ' 

"  'He  finished  the  dish  of  batterbread  in 
pious  meditation;  and  then  went  out,  and 
covertly  attached  the  thorn. 

"  'The  guests  still  come  and  go  at  Bushy 
Park,  as  I  observe  by  their  attendance  at 
Christ  Church  on  Sundays;  while  I  am  sel 
dom  without  some  one  staying  at  the  Glebe. 
Mr.  John  Ree  has  honoured  me  with  his  com 
pany  here  since  the  day  of  our  hurdle-race 
over  the  five-barred  gates,  hated  of  the 
sprightly  Mistress  Turberville.  You  will 
hardly  have  heard  ere  this  of  the  result  of 
that  race — a  piece  of  news  that  you  should 
know  as  you  were  stake-holder  for  us.  I  won 
the  race  by  the  misfortune  befalling  Mr. 
Ree's  horse  of  striking  the  last  gate  and 
tumbling,  whereby  Mr.  Ree  came  a  cropper. 
He  was  brought  to  the  Glebe  for  the  healing 
of  a  sprained  shoulder;  and  here,  as  I  have 
informed  you,  he  has  since  remained,  though 
the  shoulder  is  long  since  mended.  The 
Glebe  being  in  convenient  reach  of  Urbanna, 
where  some  of  his  cronies  foregather,  he 


202  ROBIN  AROON 

spends  much  of  his  time  there,  having  his  bed 
and  board  here.  He  promises  to  return  to 
his  home  up-country  in  November.  He  is  a 
pretty  fellow,  and  diverting  company;  and 
also  loves  a  horse. 

"  'Mr.  Ree  and  I  plan  to  attend  the  Rich 
mond  County  races  in  October,  when  I  trust 
you  may  be  returned  to  Bushy  Park  with  your 
bride,  and  may  accompany  us  thither. 

"  'Mann  Page,  of  Gloucester,  esquire's 
horse,  Damon,  will  be  matched  with  William 
Fitzhugh,of  Chatham, esquire's  Kitty  Foster; 
and  I  learn  that  Colonel  Daniel  McCarthy's 
Silver  Legs,  Moore  Fauntleroy,  esquire's 
mare,  Miss  Sprightly,  and  Colonel  Francis 
Thornton's  Merryman  are  all  entered. 
These  horses  would  make  no  despicable  figure 
at  New  Market,  in  Britain,  which  I  have  at 
tended. 

"  'Have  you  seen  any  races  during  your 
stay  in  Carolina? 

"  'I  am  informed  that  there  they  are  much 
attached  to  quarter-racing,  which  is  always  a 
match  between  two  horses  to  run  one  quarter 
of  a  mile  straight  out,  being  merely  an  ex 
ertion  of  speed. 

"   'I  must  bring  a  long  letter  to  a  quick 


ROBIN  AROON  203 

close.  It  will  please  some  of  my  congrega 
tion  next  Sunday  that  I  have  writ  at  this 
length,  for  I  have  by  so  much  curtailed  from 
my  sermon  for  that  day. 

"  'I  take  regret  to  myself,  upon  perusing 
what  is  here  set  down,  that  so  great  a  dis 
course  is  given  concerning  horses;  for  this 
topic,  I  am  sure,  can  little  concern  you  now 
in  your  state  of  hymeneal  expectancy. 

"  'Adieu,  dear  Sir,  until  I  see  you. 
"  'Your  obedient,  attached  servant, 

"  'James  Heffernan.'  ' 

"He  little  dreams  how  the  noble  animals 
have  made  our  fate  for  us,  Robin,"  said 
Judith,  when  she  had  finished  reading  the 
letter. 

"He  little  guesses  that  'tis  a  span  of  horses 
here  that  is  fetching  him  to  Halifax,"  said 
Henning.  "Ah,  those  horses!" 

"That  you  sold  to  Mr.  Gilchrist,"  she 
added  mischievously.  "And  so  you  have  al 
ways  been  Robin  Aroon?" 

"He  is  an  Irishman  and  a  courtier,  dear; 
and  the  name  does  not  mean  the  same  to  him 
as  to  you  and  me." 


THE  EIGHTH  CHAPTER 

ANOTHER  MAN^S  SHOES 

In  the  little  colonial  church,  bowered  in 
green  trees,  on  the  same  street  upon  which 
stood  the  house  with  the  box  hedges,  she  who 
had  been  known  in  the  Colony  of  Carolina 
as  "the  divine  Judith  Montfort"  became  the 
blushing  bride  of  Robert  Henning.  Very 
lovely  she  looked  in  her  white  silk  frock;  and 
very  handsome  all  the  women  of  Halifax  ac 
claimed  him  in  his  dark  blue  costume,  with 
its  cascades  of  finest  lace  and  its  brave  show  of 
gold  buttons. 

The  wedding  was  at  high  noon ;  and  the 
noisy  chirp  of  insects  in  the  periwinkle  vines 
that  carpeted  the  churchyard  mingled  with 
the  fine  Irish  brogue  of  the  Reverend  Mr. 
Heffernan,  as  he  pronounced  them  man  and 
wife,  and  admonished  the  dearly  beloved 
there  assembled  that  those,  whom  God  had 
joined  together,  none  should  put  asunder. 

Of  them  who  hearkened  were  some  who 
were  especially  dearly-beloved,  not  to  Mr. 


ROBIN  AROON  205 

Heffernan,  nor  yet  to  the  Reverend  Mr.  Fitz 
Wilson,  minister  of  that  parish,  who  assisted 
him  in  the  ceremony,  but  one  to  another;  and 
these,  regretful,  looked  on  and  dreamed  day 
dreams,  as  is  the  immemorial  wont  of  youth 
and  beauty  at  all  weddings.  But  there  was 
no  outward  visible  sign  of  their  dreaming, 
since  Judith  was  superstitious.  For  herself, 
she  had  insisted  that  all  young  brides  must  for 
good-fortune  wear  about  them,  on  their  wed 
ding  days,  concealed  in  some  unheralded  hid 
ing-place, 

"Something  old   and  something  new, 
Something  borrowed,  something  blue." 

For  her  friends  and  visitors,  whose  love- 
stories  she  had  learned, — since  Henning's 
skill  as  a  teller  of  love-tales  was  now  never 
vainly  invoked  by  her, — she  had  further  in 
sisted  on  the  verity  of  the  old  proverb : 

"Once  at  the  altar,  no  more  at  the  altar." 

Whereupon  Greig,  the  Scotch  tutor,  with 
ludicrously  lugubrious  face,  and  pathetic  eyes 
that  seemed  to  wander  vainly  in  search  of 
some  invisible,  lost  object,  walked  down  the 
aisle  in  the  wake  of  the  bridal  pair,  bearing 


206  ROBIN  AROON 

on  his  arm  the  vivacious  Miss  Evelyn  Harri 
son  of  Wakefield;  Nancy  Carter  unwillingly 
kept  step  in  the  procession  with  Launcelot 
Lee;  and  David  Henning,  with  bland  and 
seraphic  face,  escorted  Miss  Elizabeth  Berke 
ley  of  Barn  Oaks. 

Following  them  were  John  Norfleet  of 
Scotland  Neck  and  Dorothy  Davie  of  Hali 
fax;  Ben  Harrison  of  Wakefield  and  Elenor 
Henning;  Robert  Page  of  Rosewell  and 
Milicent  Hubbard;  while  Captain  Paul,  and 
Isabel  Johnstone  brought  up  the  rear  of  the 
gay  procession  of  maids  and  men.  There 
were  flowers  on  the  high  altar,  and  the  sweet 
ness  of  summer  in  the  uncloistered  air;  and 
the  beauty  and  fashion  of  the  Province 
thronged  the  church  to  witness  the  solemn 
ceremony. 

"David,"  whispered  Evelyn  Harrison, 
leaning  over  to  where  the  younger  Henning 
stood  with  Betty  Berkeley,  "when  we  get  back 
to  the  house,  I  have  something  to  tell  you." 

"S-h-h !"  was  David's  sibilant  warning,  as 
he  held  up  a  white  fore-finger  at  her,  keeping, 
meanwhile,  her  promise  in  his  memory. 

Never  did  wedding-party  appear  more 
charming  than  did  this  galaxy  of  pretty  girls 


ROBIN  AROON  207 

and  handsome  youths  who  crowded  about  the 
love-crowned  bride  and  groom  in  the  parlors 
of  Judge  Montfort's  house  with  the  box- 
hedges;  and  never  in  either  Colony  did  all 
beholders  more  approve  a  match. 

"What  was  it  you  were  so  anxious  to  say 
to  me  in  the  church,  Evelyn?"  asked  Mr. 
David  Henning  of  Miss  Evelyn  Harrison, 
discreetly  drawing  her  aside  into  an  alcove 
near  the  great  fire-place,  that  glowed  in  the 
red  glory  of  uncounted  summer  roses. 

The  girl  hesitated,  with  a  show  of  color 
in  her  face. 

"Quick!"  said  David;  "don't  you  see 
Nancy  Carter  over  yonder  watching  you  ?" 

"Then  I'll  not  tell  you,"  she  said  indig 
nantly. 

"What  were  you  going  to  say  to  him, 
Evelyn?"  asked  Milly  Hubbard,  with  spark 
ling  eyes,  as  David  departed,  chuckling. 

"He's  the  most  provoking  boy,"  said 
Evelyn;  "I  had  intended  to  tell  him  that  I 
think  so  many  of  these  old  wedding  super 
stitions  are  utterly  foolish.  I  don't  see  whv 
T  might  not  have  him  for  my  partner,  instead 
of  Mr.  Greig,  as  he  and  I  had  first  planned." 

Milly  listened  with  pained  interest,  having 


208  ROBIN  AROON 

shortly  before  received  a  like  confidence  con 
cerning  David  from  Nancy  Carter. 

"Judith  said  that  if  we  went  into  the  church 
together,  David  and  I  would  never  be  mar 
ried,"  continued  Miss  Harrison  poutingly; 
"and  that  changed  everything.  But  I  don't 
believe  in  any  such  foolish  notions.  Do  you, 
Milly?" 

"Indeed!"  laughed  Milly  Hubbard.  "I 
protest  one  would  think  otherwise,  to  see  you 
insist,  when  we  were  dressing  Judith  this 
morning,  that  she  should  wear  your  new  yel 
low  garter  with  the  diamond  buckle  on  her 
left — foot!"  she  concluded,  with  a  rising  in 
tonation,  as  Greig  paused  at  her  shoulder. 

"Evelyn,  David  is  beckoning  to  you,"  she 
added  hurriedly,  and  the  little  Harrison 
slipped  away. 

There  was  a  half-smile  on  Mr.  Gilchrist's 
saturnine  face,  as  Mr.  Iredell  said  to  him, 
where  they  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  chatter 
ing  throng: 

"They  are  an  extremely  handsome  couple, 
Gilchrist." 

He  nodded  acquiescence. 

"He  has  stayed  more  than  a  month  at  my 
house,  Iredell,"  said  Mr.  Gilchrist,  while 


ROBIN  AROON  209 

they  drank  the  bride's  health  at  the  long  side 
board  in  the  dining-room.  "I  have  become 
quite  attached  to  him.  He  is  a  pretty  gentle 
man,  and  in  every  way  worthy  of  her." 

His  friend  bowed  to  Judge  Montfort,  who 
approached  them.  Then  all  three  shook  con 
gratulatory  hands,  effusively,  in  front  of  three 
empty  glasses. 

"Ah!"  said  Judge  Montfort,  "the  young 
people  do  not  now-a-days  suffer  us  to  arrange 
these  matters  for  them." 

One  of  the  three  fancied  that  the  speech 
was  meant  for  him. 

"Judith  was  delighted  with  the  span  of 
horses  you  sent  her,  Gilchrist,"  he  added. 
"She  will  thank  you  for  them  in  person,  if  she 
can  ever  escape  that  crowd  of  girls  and  boys." 

Mr.  Gilchrist  bowed  to  Judge  Montfort  in 
silence. 

Jasper,  near  at  hand  in  a  white  apron,  and 
grasping  by  the  neck  an  ancestral  Montfort 
decanter  of  cut  glass,  could  not  contain  his 
feelings : 

"Fo'  Gord!"  he  ejaculated,  "I  knowed  she 
was  'bleest  for  ter  have  'em !" 

Once  more  his  old  adversary  appeared,  to 


210  ROBIN  AROON 

bid  him  his  customary  defiance.  Silas,  shuf 
fling  by  under  the  burden  of  a  huge  silver 
coffee  urn,  retorted  in  triumph: 

"Yas,  she  done  got  'em;  but  Mars'  Robert 
done  got  her!" 

Jasper  looked  at  the  old  man  in  wrath. 
His  impulse  was  to  smite  him. 

"You  come  out  here  on  dis  back  po'ch,"  he 
muttered. 

The  old  negro's  pride  was  aroused. 

"G'long!"  he  said;  "I'se  right  dar  wid 
ye!" 

Jasper,  leading  the  way,  caught  a  glimpse 
in  the  crowd  of  Judith's  happy  face.  His 
anger  faded  away;  and  as  Silas  stepped  upon 
the  porch  behind  him,  he  turned  and  said: 

"Shake  han's,  ole  man!  You  an'  me  ain' 
gwi'  quar'l  dis  day.  You's  a  cullud  Ferginyer 
gent'mun,  an'  I'se  a  Norf  Kliner  quality  nig 
ger;  an'  I'se  ez  good  ez  you  is,  an'  you's  ez 
good  ez  me;  an'  I  ain'  got  nothin'  'gin'  you 
no  mo'." 

"You  sho'ly  is  a  nice  gentmun,"  responded 
the  mollified  Silas;  "I  ain'  'spectin'  ter  see 
nothin'  like  you  'twixt  here  an'  de  Guff  o' 
Nexico." 

They  thereupon   drank  in  turn   from   the 


ROBIN  AROON  211 

mouth  of  the  decanter  that  Jasper  still  carried 
in  his  hand. 

"It  was  a  beautiful  wedding,  dear,"  said 
Isabel  Johnstone  to  Judith,  looking  at  her 
with  shining  eyes. 

"Even  down  to  his  beautiful  shoes?"  asked 
Judith,  half-laughing,  half-wistful. 

For  Judith  Montfort  had  wept  and  told 
Isabel  Johnstone  the  night  before,  in  bedroom 
confidence,  that  she  had  promised  to  marry 
Mr.  Gilchrist — and  that  her  dear  father  had 
wanted  her  to  marry  Mr.  Gilchrist — and  that 
she  had  always  really  intended  to  marry  Mr. 
Gilchrist, — until — until — she  had  met  Robin 
at  the  Assembly  Ball. 

And  then  Judith  had  further  told  her,  with 
April  laughter  succeeding  the  gust  of  tears, 
that  Robin's  wedding  pumps  were  found  to  be 
too  small  when  they  arrived  that  morning 
from  Philadelphia;  and  that  Mr.  Gilchrist 
had  thereupon  presented  Robin  with  Mr.  Gil- 
christ's  own  beautiful  new  pair,  which  Mr. 
Gilchrist  had  imported  for  Mr.  Gilchrist's 
own  wedding  with  Judith  Montfort ! 

"Look  at  them,  Isabel,"  she  laughed,  with 
a  glory  in  her  face,  and  pointing  to  where  her 
young  husband  stood  near  by;  "the  lovely 
jeweled  buckles,  and  all!" 


THE  NINTH  CHAPTER 

ACCOLADE 

The  chronicler  of  that  glowing  period  in 
the  history  of  Halifax  records  with  facile  pen 
that  Mr.  Iredell  wrote  a  letter  to  a  member 
of  his  family  at  Edenton  about  this  time,  in 
which  he  gave  "a  characteristic  account  of  the 
gay  and  opulent  borough.  'The  divine 
Judith  Montfort'  has  just  been  married  to 
Robert  Henning,  a  Virginia  beau.  The  nup 
tials  were  celebrated  by  twenty-two  consecu 
tive  dinner-parties  in  as  many  different 
houses;  the  dinners  being  regularly  succeeded 
by  dances,  and  all  terminated  by  a  grand 
ball." 

The  first  of  these  ever-memorable  twenty- 
two  consecutive  dinings  took  place  at  The 
Grove,  in  the  evening  after  the  wedding, 
while  the  sloop  Chockayotte,  on  which  Cap 
tain  Paul  was  booked  for  passage  to  Edenton, 
lay  in  the  Roanoke  River,  near  by,  ready  to 
sail  at  the  sun-rising. 

"I  am  reluctant  to  leave  you  and  your  hus- 


ROBIN  AROON  213 

band,  madam,  who  have  shown  me  more 
kindness  than  it  has  ever  been  my  lot  to  ex 
perience,  and  which  I  may  never  hope  to 
know  again.  I  would  honor  your  name  the 
world  over,"  he  said,  as  he  bent  above  his 
hostess'  hand  in  salutation  at  the  breakfast 
table  that  morning,  while  Mr.  Jones  smiled 
approval  from  the  head  of  the  shining  and 
flower-decked  board. 

"But  the  Chockayotte  does  not  sail  until  to 
morrow,"  she  said.  "You  will  surely  stay  to 
the  dinner  for  the  bridal  party." 

"Were  not  my  brother  lying  sick  at  Fred- 
ericksburg,  as  I  have  learned  but  yesterday, 
I  should  be  loth  to  depart  until  the  Virginians 
leave,"  replied  Captain  Paul.  "I  shall  re 
main  to  the  dinner,  with  great  pleasure." 

"And  we  shall  see  you  again  some  day? 
You  will  not  forget  us?"  said  the  gentle  lady. 

"There  are  clouds  on  the  horizon,  mad 
am,"  responded  John  Paul,  in  the  melodra 
matic  language  that  seemed  so  well  to  com 
port  with  his  character  and  person,  "which 
portend  the  breaking  of  an  early  storm.  I 
look,  when  that  storm  shall  come,  to  fly  the 
colors  of  a  new  republic  against  the  ships  of 
England  on  the  sea.  Haply,  Mr.  Jones  and 


2i4  ROBIN  AROON 

his  brother,  and  my  good  friend,  Mr.  Joseph 
Hewes,  may  in  that  time  aid  me  in  this  ambi 
tion  of  mine  to  command  a  vessel  for  the  free 
dom  of  America,"  and  he  bowed  to  Mr. 
Jones. 

"It  shall  be  my  pleasure,  Captain  Paul," 
the  latter  responded,  "as  I  am  sure  it  will  be 
the  pleasure  of  my  brother  Allen,  and  of  Mr. 
Hewes." 

The  idea  of  impending  struggle  appeared 
to  obsess  the  mind  of  the  young  sea-captain. 
His  face  glowed  with  the  fervor  of  a  great 
passion. 

"It  needs  no  prophetic  vision,"  he  said, 
haranguing  host  and  hostess,  "to  see  the  com 
ing  event;  and  even  less,  in  considering  the 
patriotic  spirit  that  animates  the  men  and  wo 
men  of  these  colonies,  to  foretell  its  favorable 
issue.  There  is  an  undercurrent  that  is  not 
mistakable." 

He  spoke  in  the  nautical  phraseology  which 
seemed  frequently  to  suggest  itself  to  him. 

"It  is  very  strange  of  you  to  dwell  on  com 
ing  war,  Captain  Paul,"  said  Mrs.  Jones, 
smiling  at  his  enthusiasm,  "when  the  minds 
of  all  of  us  are  so  engaged  with  the  soft  de 
lights  of  yesterday's  wedding." 


ROBIN  AROON  215 

He  regarded  her  with  sorrowful,  unsmiling 
eyes. 

"And  the  silken-clad,  luxurious  colonials — 
these  laughing,  joyous  boys  and  girls,  in  their 
silks  and  brocades,  wearing  their  love-verses 
on  their  lips,  and  their  love-songs  in  their 
hearts — madam,  I  foresee  them  in  the 
front  of  that  tremendous  fray.  Their  ease 
of  life  will  be  forgotten  in  the  ardor  of  sac 
rificial  struggle;  and  they  will  learn,  with 
brave  hearts  and  smiling  faces,  the  beautiful 
meaning  of  the  Roman  saying,  that  it  is  a 
sweet  and  honorable  thing  to  die  for  one's 
country." 

Then  with  rising  intonation  and  uncon 
scious  eloquence,  he  continued: 

"I  mind  me,  madam,  of  that  stirring  story 
in  French  history  when,  in  the  Wars  of  the 
Fronde,  the  King's  storming  columns  under 
de  Praslin  were  beat  back  from  the  battle 
ments  of  Rethel,  until,  baffled  and  bleeding, 
they  stood  aside  to  suffer  the  Guards  of  the 
Royal  Household  to  take  their  bloody  turn. 
I  recall  in  the  story,  how,  with  broidery  and 
feathers,  and  with  their  ladies'  love-tokens  of 
scarves  and  ribands  on  their  arms,  these 
young  gallants  of  the  boudoir  and  the  salon 


216  ROBIN  AROON 

moved  forward  to  the  assault,  while  de  Pras- 
lin's  broken  veterans  called  jeeringly,  'En 
avant  les  gants  glaces!' 

"I  mind  me,  how  laughingly  they  leaped 
to  that  gory  fray.  The  feathers  were  shorn, 
when  it  was  over;  and  the  ribands  and 
scarves  were  begrimed  and  reddened.  Half 
of  the  young,  white  faces  lay  dead  in  the 
walls'  broken  breach;  but  the  sweet-voiced, 
soft-handed  boys  of  the  court  had  captured 
the  ramparts  of  Rethel. 

"Madam,"  he  concluded,  as  he  bowed  with 
impassioned  grace  to  his  hostess,  "I  am  peas 
ant-born,  but  I  have  the  fighting  spirit  and  the 
fighter's  instinct.  We  shall  yet  hear  that  ac 
claim  for  these,  our  Americans,  'En  avant  les 
gants  glaces!' — and  see  again  the  young 
household  guards  at  the  storming." 

In  the  soft  glow  of  wax-candles,  following 
the  dinner  of  state  in  the  great  dining-hall 
of  The  Grove,  the  dance  took  place  in  the 
parlor  with  the  bay-window,  where  the  gene 
rations  of  Joneses  looked  down  on  the  gay 
assemblage,  from  gilded  frames,  with  un 
changing  faces. 

Beneath  the  portrait  of  Robin  Jones,  in 
the  red  velvet  coat,  first  of  his  house  in  the 


ROBIN  AROON  217 

colonies,  hung  a  sword  in  a  metal  sheath. 
The  hilt  of  it  was  of  white  brass,  and  the 
grip-piece  of  the  handle  of  twisted  copper 
wire,  that  shone  in  the  bright  candle-light. 
Mrs.  Jones  was  one  of  the  very  few  of  the 
animated  crowd  who  observed  her  husband, 
in  the  interval  between  two  dances,  stand  for 
a  moment  before  the  portrait  of  his  progeni 
tor,  and,  with  his  back  to  the  company,  take 
down  the  weapon. 

The  dance-music  had  ceased  and  the  mur 
mur  of  the  soft  Southern  voices  was  alone 
audible  in  the  room. 

Mr.  Jones  advanced  to  the  centre  of  the 
moving,  laughing  throng  of  men  and  women ; 
and  drawing  the  sword  from  its  sheath,  held 
it,  point  upwards,  above  his  head.  The 
flashing  blade  caught  and  reflected  the  light 
of  a  hundred  wax  tapers. 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  he  called,  and  the 
assemblage  paused  in  its  movement,  each 
where  he  stood,  and  wondered.  Some  subtle  in 
fluence  seemed  to  inform  the  atmosphere  in 
the  deep  hush  that  followed.  Mrs.  Jones 
moved  through  the  throng,  and  stopped  at 
her  husband's  side. 

"I  wish  to  make  public  to  this  gathering 


218  ROBIN  AROON 

of  the  best  of  two  sister  colonies  the  esteem 
in  which  my  wife  and  I  hold  one  who  yet  be 
longs  to  neither,  though  he  carries  in  his 
heart  the  welfare  and  the  honor  of  both,  and 
of  all  America.  He  leaves  us  on  the  morrow 
for  Virginia ;  and  ere  he  departs  I  would  bid 
'God  speed!'  to  our  friend,  Captain  Paul." 

Upon  the  conclusion  of  Mr.  Jones's  unex 
pected  speech  there  was  a  clapping  of  hands; 
and  then  there  was  laughter,  and  shouts  of 
applause,  and  the  suspense  of  the  moment 
was  fraught  with  the  eagerness  of  strained 
anticipation. 

Thereupon,  forth  of  the  applauding  throng, 
with  the  accustomed  dignity  and  grace  of  one 
sprung  from  a  long  line  of  courtiers,  stepped 
the  young  Scotch  sea-captain,  clad  in  his  lav 
ender  suit  of  silk  that  so  well  became  his  face 
and  figure.  His  head  was  high,  and  his 
cleancut  nostril  was  dilated;  and  he  walked 
with  an  unhesitant  movement  of  cool  imper 
turbability. 

The  women  who  knew  him  were  thrilled  to 
see  the  wonted  melancholy  languor  of  his 
dark  eyes  glow  into  a  burning  and  a  flaming 
light.  A  score  and  more  of  them  there,  at 


ROBIN  AROON  219 

that  moment,  would  have  laid  down  their 
hearts,  that  he  might  trample  on  them. 

The  assembled  guests  drew  away  before  his 
advance,  half-awed  and  wholly  spell-bound 
by  his  bearing,  until  there  was  left  a  wide, 
vacant  space  before  the  master  and  mistress 
of  the  mansion. 

Reaching  this  spot,  the  sailor  stood  for  a 
moment  motionless,  with  all  eyes  fixed  upon 
him.  Then  in  a  voice  that  fell  on  the  list 
ening  throng  with  the  melodious  intonations 
of  some  soft  musical  instrument,  he  said: 

"You  do  me,  sir  and  madam,  a  signal  and 
unexpected  honor." 

He  bowed  low,  in  austere  simplicity,  and 
stood  facing  his  hosts. 

"Captain  Paul,"  said  Mr.  Jones,  "in  token 
of  the  high  regard  in  which  we  hold  you,  up 
on  this  eve  of  your  departure  from  Halifax, 
where  you  have  found  many  friends, — and 
upon  what  you  and  I  and  no  few  others  of 
this  company  believe  to  be  also  the  eve  of 
mighty  events  in  the  destiny  of  these  colonies, 
— I  present  to  you  this  sword.  I  think  that 
you  will  never  draw  it  in  any  save  a  worthy 
cause." 

He  returned  the  weapon  to  its  sheath,  and 
handed  it,  hilt  foremost,  to  his  guest. 


220  ROBIN  AROON 

"I  have  no  words  to  thank  you,"  said  Cap 
tain  Paul,  receiving  it. 

The  histrionic  impulse,  that  ever  dominat 
ed  his  life,  was  at  flood  tide  in  him.  It  was 
a  passionate  part  of  his  nature  in  all  critical 
junctures;  and  now  it  moved  him  as  with  ir 
resistible  compulsion. 

He  drew  the  blade  from  the  scabbard,  that 
fell  from  his  hand  with  a  clang  upon  the  pol 
ished  floor.  Taking  the  weapon  by  the 
point,  he  presented  the  hilt  of  it  to  Mrs. 
Jones. 

"Madam,"  he  said,  and  his  sweet,  clear 
voice  again  rang  through  the  room,  while  the 
light  in  his  eyes  melted  once  more  to  a  wistful 
and  pathetic  tenderness,  "in  the  days  of 
knighthood  queens  sometimes  gave  the  acco 
lade.  I  should  find  my  supremest  happiness 
in  this  brilliant  presence  to  receive  it  at  your 
hand,  with  a  prophetic  title." 

He  knelt  upon  one  knee  before  her. 

Laughing  the  while,  she  touched  his  'left 
shoulder  with  the  shining  sword-point. 

"Arise,"  she  said,  "Admiral  John  Paul,  of 
an  American  navy." 

The  sword  fell  from  her  hand  and  lay  near 
the  scabbard  on  the  floor. 


THE  POSTSCRIPT 

Many  of  the  Seats  of  the  Mighty  still  lift 
their  lofty  roofs  along  the  River  Way;  but 
few  of  them  now  hold  aught  that  is  left  out 
of  the  faded  century  save  memories. 

No  longer  is  tobacco  a  staple  crop  in  the 
ancient  county  of  Middlesex;  and  the  white 
sails  of  ships  forth  of  Glasgow  and  London 
town  have  vanished  from  the  lucent  sunlit 
days  that  yet  kindle  the  tide-waters  of  Rappa- 
hannock. 

Urbanna  is  no  more  a  port  of  entry;  and 
Halifax,  under  the  touch  of  time,  long  since 
ceased  to  be  "the  gay  and  opulent  borough" 
that  Mr.  Iredell  described  it. 

The  little  church  in  which  Robin  Aroon 
and  Judith  were  married  still  stands,  how 
ever,  in  its  periwinkle-covered  yard,  grey  with 
age  and  haunted  of  the  past;  but  the  box- 
hedges,  since  grown  high  in  air,  are  broken 
in  their  ordered  array,  and  the  Montfort 
mansion  has  become  a  lodging-house  in  the 
ownership  of  strangers. 

How  Henning  and  his  youthful  compeers 


222  ROBIN  AROON 

justified  Captain  Paul's  melodramatic  proph 
ecy  is  written  in  history;  upon  some  of  the 
pages  of  which  is  also  chronicled  the  shining 
story  of  the  young  Scotch  sailor,  who  gave 
himself  an  imperishable  name  at  Halifax, 
that  became  an  imperishable  fame  upon  the 
seas. 

Among  the  manuscripts  of  the  Philosophi 
cal  Society  in  Philadelphia  is  a  lately  found 
letter,  written  by  him  after  he  had  achieved 
his  honors,  that  lets  in  a  glowing  light  upon 
his  career  in  those  unrecorded  years  before 
the  Revolution;  and  in  the  Library  of  the 
Navy  Department  at  Washington  may  still 
be  seen  his  sword, — the  guard  of  its  hilt 
broken  off,  but  the  blade  uncorrupted, — that 
once  hung  under  the  portrait  of  Robin  Jones 
in  the  red  velvet  coat  on  the  long-since 
crumbled  and  fallen  walls  of  The  Grove. 


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